


To Be Cursed In Both Worlds

by KallinFrost



Category: Cursed (2005), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, I promise, Mage!Stiles, Many little tweaks in the storyline, More tags to be announced soon, Multi, Slow Build, Slow Build for EVERYONE, Touch-Starved, angst because of realistic unhappiness, but they WILL get there, fluff because of unrealistic happiness, i guess?, kind of makes for big changes, pairings are to be decided as we go, touchy-feely werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallinFrost/pseuds/KallinFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beacon Hills was not where Ellie and Jimmy intended to go with their lives, before they were bitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions and Miscommunications

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is a fic of 'what if'. In this case, what if the characters of Cursed moved to Beacon Hills? I'm kind of winging it here, so this will have a lot of reader input into the story! This is my second attempt at writing fic, so please be gentle with me, my first one didn't turn out so well. I'll always ask certain questions pertaining to the next chapter at the end, and I'd adore you forever if you answered so I got some idea on where to take things! (I'm indecisive by nature, so you'll be a big help in this!) This takes place just after the end of season 2, so Erica and Boyd are gone, they know the Alpha Pack are coming but they aren't here yet, and the school year hasn't quite ended.
> 
> As a side note, I'm still trying to work out typos and editing/formatting errors, so if you see one, let me know!

Beacon Hills was not where Ellie and Jimmy intended to go with their lives, before they were bitten. It was small. The T.V. station that Ellie got a transfer to didn’t pay nearly as well. The High School seemed to have a surprising crime rate, not that either of them were worried about Jimmy being victimized... No, that was awfully hard to do these days. The attack they’d suffered three months back, turning the siblings into werewolves, hulking and massive and painful to shift had taken care of bullying.

They thought they’d cured themselves with Jake Lyall’s death, the man who’d started their bloodline. A born wolf who wanted Ellie for his own, and gone mad with his own perceived power, attempting to kill them both. All the books said that when they killed him, they would sever the bloodline, they would be human again... For a while, the thought it had. They could touch silver, the full moon didn’t force them to shift, though they still got an itchy feeling under their skin like fur trying to push it’s way to the surface. They’d dismissed it as aftereffects, soon to pass.

Until one night, about a month after the ‘incident’ as they’d started calling it, Jimmy and his bully-turned-best-friend Bo had been practicing for a wrestling meet and Jimmy had bitten him, playfully, not intending to hurt him, and grew fangs in the midst of it. Bo had screamed, fallen to the floor, blood gushing from his shoulder, but the next morning they knew. They knew what had happened. His hand bore five marks, like scars branded in, and his bite was gone. The Mark of the Beast. After Bo’s turning, they knew that Los Angeles wasn’t going to work out.

Now they were headed out to tiny Beacon Hills. Still, the town did have its perks. It was surrounded by woodlands, some of it forested but most of it a preserve, owned and taken care of by different families that lived on the outskirts of town. The summer heat just starting to come through the spring rains, and the little town was beautiful with flowers and trees blooming. Jimmy normally had allergies in spring... not so, nowadays. Bo had opted to come with them, and had told his father, a man who cared little for his son but a lot about how his son represented him, that if he couldn’t leave with the siblings he was going to make himself a disgrace to his wealthy, political family. His father had let him go with hardly a batted eyelash.

The biggest draw of Beacon Hills was anonymity. No one in Beacon Hills knew or cared about L.A., or the three werewolves that were desperately running from the memories there. They could keep to themselves, run in the woods when they felt the urge... It seemed the perfect place for them.

Ellie had used some of the money their parents had left them, along with the money from selling their family home, to buy a new house on the edge of the preserve. A simple four bedroom, 2-story home, with large windows, white shutters and a picturesque lawn and garden. Harmless and normal, but still had a back porch that led straight into the preserve. Enough space for their pack of three. She enrolled both boys in High School, glaring down the staff when they had questioned her enrolling Bo with no legal standing to do so, and they had eventually complied.

Seeing as Beacon Hills was the perfect place for werewolves, they really shouldn’t have been surprised when they found out they weren’t the only ones there.

Jimmy and Bo were going to the last few weeks of sophomore year in June, to assimilate themselves so they wouldn’t be ‘the new kids’ at the beginning of Junior year. There were a few inquisitive glances, but they made no secret of themselves, smiling and laughing with each other, trying to look harmless, friendly. For the most part, it seemed to work. Three students, however, kept glaring. Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey, as Jimmy had learned from roll call, had started from the moment they laid eyes on them. Even more confusingly, Stiles Stilinski, who had initially been nice, if spastic and a bit distracted, had begun to glare also.

“What do you think their problem is?” Bo asked, and Jim just shrugged.

“Probably just don’t like new kids.” He said, dismissive, and Isaac Lahey’s glare sharpened as if he’d heard.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Ellie, meanwhile, was trying to settle in at her new job. She was technically a Communications Specialist, which translated to public relations girl to anyone who worked there, but her boss assured her that she’d move up in the corporate ladder soon enough. She doubted it, but the pay was good enough to get by on, and she didn’t stay cooped up in an office all day, instead going to meetings with people to get publications put out, advertisements put in, and other tasks that at her L.A. job had been someone else’s problem. She found she didn’t actually mind much, until she met with a Peter Hale, who had been hired by the station to manage editing before news went on-air.

When she stepped into his office, the man had stood and made to shake her hand, before suddenly jerking it back as if he’d been burned and his eyes turned steely. “Ms. Meyers. I didn’t think that your leader would be bold enough to send you here.”

“Do I know you?” Ellie demanded, a bit snappy in her confusion, and he frowned.

“Let’s not play games, Ms. Meyers.” Hale sighed. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to check on how much ad time we’re going to have on tomorrow’s show, I didn’t know that was a crime?” It came out as more of a question that she’d intended, and he gave her a wry smile.

“I’m sure. We saw your symbol on the Hale house’s door, we’ve been expecting you, is there really a need for this song and dance?” He demanded, and Ellie clenched her jaw.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Hale, and I suggest that next time you intend on accusing someone of... of graffiti or whatever happened to your door, you rethink it.” She snapped, starting to leave in long, angry strides.

“Ms. Meyers!” He barked, and she stopped, looking at him with a furious glare. “Tomorrow will have five three minute ad segments.” He said, looking a bit confused, and she nodded and huffed.

“That was all I needed, Mr. Hale.” She growled, her eyes flashing an angry opalescent white unbeknownst to her. Peter wondered, for a moment, how he had mistaken the smell of an Alpha on the girl who obviously didn’t know what he was talking about... but that told him what he needed to know. She was no part of the Alpha pack, instead part of a legend come to life before him... there was only one bloodline that had white eyes, instead of the normal red, yellow, or blue. He sat himself at his desk and wondered, for a moment, how on earth one of her people had found itself in Beacon Hills, and decided that he didn’t care... as long she wasn’t the enemy, they had more pressing worries.

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

 

Jimmy knew that they were being followed. Bo seemed unaware, blissfully, talking animatedly about the wrestling team here, and how it wasn’t the big sport, but it still seemed pretty competitive, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to fare.

“Bo... you’re a wolf. I wouldn’t worry about how you’re going to do compared to a bunch of high school jocks.” Jim said, with a cursory look around. Bo, catching on to something wrong about, stopped, and Jim didn’t move far, just far enough that he could have a better chance to see if something rounded a corner. He sharpened his senses, his nose mainly, since it was the least obvious, and got the strong scent of wolf. He attributed it to himself and Bo... until there was a snarl from the side of them.

Isaac Lahey, claws and fangs just peeking out, was catching their attention. Scott McCall was the one with the stiff posture, human face, and a glare that was best described as lukewarm; like he couldn’t decide if he could hate them or not. To Jim, this wasn’t a shock; he figured they were the school bullies, coming after the new kids to pick on them. Bo, however, was more nervous; he’d been the bully in school, not the other way around.

“Why are you here?” Scott demanded, coming closer, and Jimmy instinctually moved in front of Bo; a protective gesture. Bo was the ‘younger’ wolf; the one that had been turned most recently, and by Jim no less; he had trouble controlling his urge to defend Bo, against threats real or perceived. Bo, for his part, was happy to move behind; his instincts told him that he couldn’t fight against these two, and Jim could, and that was enough.

Jim caught the smell wafting off of them, and recognized the sharpness to it; wolf, similar to him and Bo, but not as obvious. Bo and his scent overpowered their smell, and he realized why they’d been glaring. As much as they knew Bo and Jim’s secret, the two hadn’t known Scott and Isaac’s. These two were werewolves too.

“He asked you a question!” Isaac snarled, and Bo jumped; Jim snarled back, bigger teeth making an appearance for only a moment, but it was enough to make Isaac and Scott’s eyes widen.

“Why are you here? We knew you were coming, but not why!” Scott demanded again.

“We-- how did you know?” Jim asked, confused and thrown by the idea, and that in turn threw Scott.

“We saw the symbol? On the old Hale house?” He asked more that stated, and Jim looked even more confused.

“What symbol?” He said, and Scott frowned.

“The symbol of the Alpha pack? Aren’t you...?” Scott trailed off, starting to look embarrassed, while Isaac just looked confused.

“How is there more than one Alpha in a pack? Or is it like... a pack that leads other packs? What’s going on?” Jimmy’s thirst for more information on his species was getting ahead of him, but Jake’s words to Ellie on the night he died, when he thought he couldn’t hear him, was ringing in his ears. _There’s only room for one Alpha Male, and I think it’s time we put the poor kid out of his misery, don’t you?_

"Um, its more than one alpha in a pack, but I'm guessing you're not them if you... don't... know that." Now he was looking truly embarrassed.

"Could be faking it." Isaac commented, almost bored now that there wasn't any intimidation needed.

"We're not." Jim's voice broached no argument.

"Flash you eyes then." Isaac challenged, and Bo blanched. Jim had managed to figure out activating certain heightened senses, like his eyes -which made them flash- but Bo didn't have enough control.

Jim flashed his, and stood a little closer to Bo, a little more protectively. "What does that color mean?" Scott whispered to Isaac, though it wasn't as sneaky to other wolves as it would have been to a human.

"You're asking me? You're the senior werewolf!" He hissed back.

"You're the one who had training from Derek?" He said, with a sheepish smile.

"You know we can still hear you." Jim said, dryly. He'd gained a fair bit of confidence and snark along with the bite; a by-product of knowing bullies couldn't kick his ass.

Scott looked, once again, embarrassed, and Bo wondered if this was a regular thing for him. "I just haven't seen eyes like yours before." He said, and there was a confused look passed between the L.A. werewolves.

"What do yours look like?" Bo asked, and Lahey flashed predator-yellow eyes in tandem with Scott.

"A lot darker than yours, but you're still not alpha red. I guess we'll have to take that as proof enough. at least for now." Isaac grumbled. He didn't seem the trusting sort.

"Is this alpha pack a big deal?" Bo asked. Jim didn't need to. The hostile welcome was enough to assure him it was.

"Kind of. They're bad news according to Derek and Peter." Scott admitted.

"You've mentioned Derek before, is he a mentor wolf or something?" Jim asked, a bit excited at the prospect. He would love to have a wolf who knew what was going on.

"Sort of. He's been having a rough time." Isaac deflected the question, looking uncomfortable.

"And Peter?" Jim added, since Derek wasn't a good topic.

"Don't talk to Peter." Both boys said, too quickly.

"Its not that he's still all mass-murderer or anything. But he was?" Scott explained briefly.

"And he's annoying anyway." Isaac tacked on dryly.

"So... were you guys born wolves? The guy who turned me said he was." Jim asked. Both shook their heads.

"I was bitten by Peter when he was alpha-power-crazy. Derek, the current alpha, turned Isaac when he was building a pack." He explained.

"Wait, there's more of you guys? And is it like, a culture thing that alphas turned you?" Jim asked,curious why he’d felt the need to point out that both had been alphas at the time.

“There... Were. Boyd and Erica are missing.” Isaac was almost whispering, and he looked more upset than McCall, who just looked troubled. “And of course an alpha turned us.” Scott sounded confused that it was in question.

“I feel like we left L.A. and walked into something way more complicated.” Bo murmured, and Jimmy smiled wryly at him.

“Maybe so. We should tell Ellie so she doesn’t run into someone on accident.” Jim suggested, and Bo snickered.

“Their funeral if they treat her like Scott did us. She got scary after... well. After.” He trailed off, losing his smile, and Jim smiled and put an affectionate hand on his shoulder. Ellie had more trouble talking about it than Jim, since she’d been so involved with Jake and he’d turned into such an asshole, but all three tended to avoid the topic.

“Yeah. She doesn’t take anyone’s shit anymore, does she?” Jim said, fondly. She’d confided in him, before they left L.A., that Joanie’s constant goading about her ‘tortured’ personality had really gotten to her, and she had tried since not to let anyone take advantage of her forgiving personality like Jake had. It had a side effect of making her even more no-nonsense than she was before the incident, and she wasn’t as nice about being offended or ignored these days.

“Who is Ellie? Your guys’ sister?” Scott clarified, and Jim nodded.

“My sister. Bo isn’t related to us. She was turned at the same time I was; Bo was... later.” Jim looked guilty at that, but Bo just smiled.

“So you guys were turned too? Not born?” Scott asked.

“Yeah. Jake, the guy who started our bloodline, was the born wolf. My sister hit Joanie, the werewolf that turned us, with her car actually. That’s when we got attacked.” Jim explained, though not.. everything. That wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs.

“So... Jake wasn’t your alpha, Joanie was?” Isaac asked, and Jim gave him a funny look.

“Uh, Jake said something about being the alpha... But I’m not sure? They’re both dead now. We thought that severing the bloodline would cure us... Obviously, it didn’t.” Jim was only a little bitter about it.

“I did wonder about that myth...” Scott said, and Bo smiled at him. He didn’t seem happy about being turned either, but he was closer to accepting it that Jim, and that was reassuring for his best friend.

“It’s bullshit. There’s no cure, not for this.” Jim sighed. “I’ve looked.”

“Stiles looked. For me.” He said, and Jim perked up.

“Is he a werewolf too?” He asked, curious as to just how many there were in this town.

“Nah, he’s human. He’s my best friend.” He said, with a fond smile, and Isaac rolled his eyes. Jim got the impression that there wasn’t much love lost there. There was a bit of a silence, and then Bo cleared his throat.

“We should get home. Ellie will be waiting.” He said, unsure and glancing at the Beacon Hills wolves as if wondering whether they’d let them leave.

“We’ll go with you. There’s still things I don’t understand about all this. Your eyes, having two alphas in the same pack... all of it.” Scott said, and Isaac sighed through his nose, as if he figured they had better things to do. Jim wondered why he assumed both Joanie and Jake were alphas, but they went the last few blocks in silence. Asking would only prompt more awkward conversation in public.

As they entered the property line for the L.A. wolves’ home, they were hit with the strong scent of their territoriality; far stronger than that around the Hale house or the abandoned subway. Jim and Bo didn’t bat an eyelash, but the Beacon Hills wolves cast a side-eye glance at one another. Things weren’t adding up. These weren’t normal wolves, and they were starting to get suspicious once again.

“Come on in.” Bo said, being the more used to people hanging out in his house... though usually not to interrogate them about their wolfiness. Jim hadn’t been the most popular in L.A., and if anyone came over to his house, it was usually unexpected and unpleasant. That had changed only slightly when Bo started coming around to see him.

“Ellie!” Jim called, to see if she was upstairs, but there was no answer, and no heartbeat when he sharpened his hearing to listen for her. “Must have stayed late. First day and all.” He muttered.

“This is... nice.” Scott was trying to be kind, but most of their stuff hadn’t come with them from L.A.; too many bad memories. Only the pictures of their mother and father, family heirlooms, and books and bookshelves, for the most part. A lot of their furniture had been ruined in the few days of their first full moon, with all the fighting and then the fire after Jake’s death in the kitchen. Anything not destroyed was only holding them back in L.A., and they wanted a fresh start. Ellie had enough saved to buy new furniture, and the only thing Jim had been attached to was his multitude of supernatural books that had been pilfered from the library before they left Los Angeles. He’d taken a number of werewolf related ones, and then several unrelated mythology books also. After all, if werewolves were real, that meant pretty much everything else could be too, right?

All in all, their house looked like a spartan jumble of furniture that needed to be put together, boxes that needed to be unpacked, and several stacks of books in need of a shelf. “It’ll look better once everything is unpacked and furniture is in and all.” Jim said, a bit embarrassed, but Bo just smiled.

“The breakfast nook has seating. You guys want a drink or something?” Bo asked, leading them to the kitchen, and Scott accepted a soda in the spirit of trust-building. Isaac wasn’t about to accept anything that came out of their house.

“So, L.A. has two alphas?” Scott asked, once they were settled.

“You keep saying ‘alpha’ like it’s a special difference. How do you know who an alpha is or isn’t? Jake said he was the alpha of the pack, but Joanie never mentioned anything about it. I don’t even think she had a pack.” Jim said, frustrated with knowing too little about a culture that he now was forced to be part of. It was like relearning how to be social, and he hadn’t been too good at that the first time. “And they’re both dead now, anyway.”

“Alphas have red eyes. They’re the only ones who can turn people, so...” He trailed off. “They get the power by the death of another Alpha. If you kill an alpha, you get their power. If an alpha dies, I guess the oldest wolf in the pack gets it? I’m a little hazy on that.” Scott admitted.

“Does that mean you’re an alpha?” Bo asked softly, looking at Jim. “But your eyes aren’t red.” He said, confused. “I mean, they’re sort of red, but they’re not red red, and I’m guessing that since you guys didn’t attack us before that they aren’t alpha red?”

“None of this makes any sense.” Jim said. “Joanie was turned by Jake, and she didn’t kill anything but humans and she turned us. Plus, Bo... Well. I turned Bo. And Ellie is the one who... got Jake.” He said, and Scott and Isaac both looked confused now.

“Well, your eyes aren’t like ours, but they’re not like Derek’s either.” Scott said.

“Maybe we should call Derek.” Isaac said.

“Or Deaton. He knows about this stuff.” Scott said. "I would rather not bother Derek if we don't have to. After the Gerard thing, and Erica and Boyd being taken, he has enough on his plate." Scott said.

“He’s going to want to know about three new wolves moving in, Scott, especially if one of them can turn. And if one of them can...” Isaac sighed, and he bit his lip.

“Yeah... yeah, you’re right. But I think we should call Deaton too.” Scott agreed.

“And I think we should know who these people are before they go poking around our life!” Jim growled, raising his voice a bit.

“Look, no offense to you, but there’s more on our plate than you, and the sooner we get you squared away the better.” Isaac said, with a sarcastic smile.

“And no offense to you, but I’m not sure I want to be ‘squared away’! We moved here hoping to start over after a seriously bad experience, and we aren’t anyone’s problem!” Jim said, eyes flashing white, and Isaac took a step back and closer to Scott, his own eyes flashing. He wasn’t challenging, but he wasn’t backing down either.

“Jim!” Bo said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Take it down a notch. We don’t have time.” He said softly, in his ear, and Jim took a deep breath, reining in his wolf that demanded him to fight. It was getting too close to the moon cycle for this.

“Sorry.” He said, though it was still a little on edge.

“It’s hard to keep control at first.” Scott said softly. “It gets easier with practice.” He said, smiling at him.

“It’s only been three months for me and Ellie. Two for Bo.” He said.

“Bo seems calmer than you?” Isaac asked.

“I’ve always been aggressive. I’m used to pulling it back.” He said, shrugging. “I was captain of the wrestling team back in L.A., school bully, all that. Most of it was misplaced aggression, but I still learned how to deal with it before I ever became a werewolf.” He explained.

“And I was a weakling nerd that got picked on by Bo and his clique. I’ve never had any power. It’s hard to know when to pull back now that I do.” Jim said shortly, less inclined to share his story with the two other wolves than Bo apparently was.

“We can help you learn to control it. It was really hard for me too, at first.” Scott said, not unkindly, and Jim found himself liking Scott. He seemed like a sweet guy, even if he didn’t think things through very well. Isaac seemed like a douche, but he couldn’t tell if that was because he actually acted this way all the time or if he was just defensive with them.

“Maybe.” Jim said, still not sure about all this. He’d been prepared to figure it out on his own, and in a way, was looking forward to the mental challenge. Still, better to control it faster and better than pose a danger. He was still bad about losing his temper.

“You guys should at least meet everyone. Your sister too. I could... call them? We could meet on neutral ground, or here if you wanted?” He asked rather than stated, which Jim appreciated.

“I’ll have to ask Ellie. It’s kind of up to her if she wants to do this.” He said, and Scott nodded eagerly. The front door opened and then shut, and all four wolves perked up.

“Speak of the devil.” Bo grinned as he spoke, and Jim smirked as she came into the kitchen to deposit her things.

“And she shall appear. Hey, Ellie.” Jim said, and she froze when she saw the other wolves.

“Hey, I didn’t realize we were having company.” There was a definite glare aimed at Jim, at that one. “The house really isn’t in any shape to be having people come over, please excuse the mess.” She added, smiling at Scott and Isaac in a harried way.

“It’s really not a problem. You must be Ellie. I’m Scott, this is Isaac. We... had a bit of a misunderstanding.” He explained. “We’re werewolves too.” He said, and she froze, looking slowly between them.

“What sort of misunderstanding did you have?” The glare she aimed at Bo and Jim was far less subtle this time.

“Nothing that was their fault! We... thought they were someone else.” Scott was quick to defend them. “We’ve been expecting a pack of Alphas to make a move for nearly a month. Why, we don’t know, but they’re not friendly. When you guys showed up, and in our homeroom, we thought they were finally starting to show themselves. We confronted Jim and Bo after school. Obviously, you guys aren’t alphas.” He said lamely.

“That... would explain some things. I ran into a Peter Hale at work that seemed very upset to see me.” She said, and Scott nodded.

“Peter’s bad news, but he’s pack. He’s the oldest member, actually. He’s a story all on his own.” Scott didn’t sound enthused. “It makes sense that he’d mistake you for the Alphas too. They’re the main issue right now, and everyone is anxious. No one really knows what to do with themselves except hurry up and wait, and with you guys showing up now...” He trailed off, but Ellie was nodding.

“I get it. What he said makes more sense. But I’m going to need clarification on... just about everything else.” She said, and Jim and Bo quickly got her up to speed on what they’d learned so far from Scott and Isaac. “Okay, I understand... a little better. But I don’t know about this meeting, I don’t think we need to get mixed up in all this.” She said, though she didn’t sound like she was saying no outright. It was a step in the right direction, according to Scott.

“It’s going to affect everyone in the community anyway; especially the wolves. And I think we can really help you guys.” Scott said, hopefully, and Ellie sighed, sitting on one of the benches in the breakfast nook next to her little pack.

“El... We can’t keep running away from this. And we can’t just avoid it and pretend everything is all right. Everything is definitely not all right.” Bo said, and she sighed.

“Fine. If it will help the boys, fine.” She agreed. “But we don’t have enough room here, at least not until we have everything set up properly.” She gestured vaguely to the furniture.

“That’s all right. We can probably use the old subway station.” Isaac offered. “I’ll text everyone on my end. Scott, you want to let everyone your way know?” He said, and Scott nodded.

“Are we really that big of a deal?” Jim muttered, but both boys ignored him in favor of sending out mass texts.

“Derek says we can use the subway, and he’s already there.” Isaac said after a moment. “And Peter says he’s coming. Well. He said ‘he’d be delighted to make the acquaintance of Ms. Meyers properly’ which is his creeper way of saying he’s coming.” He said, and Ellie scoffed but had nothing more to say on that.

“Allison and Lydia are on their way there now, and Deaton says that he has to finish closing up the clinic and then he’ll come.” Scott said.

“Hm...” Isaac sounded dubious, and Scott looked at him in confusion.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m just not sure if this is going to work. I mean, Allison and Derek in the same room? Lydia and Peter? There’s going to be too much baggage to work around.” Isaac said. He tactfully didn’t mention the whole Allison stabbing him several times. He was over it anyway. He’d... had worse.

“We’ve got to work through that anyway, and there’s no better time than now, before the real crisis comes. It’s good that they’re here, really. It gives everyone a reason to sort of... mingle?” Scott said, and Isaac sighed.

“I don’t think this is going to end well. But we’ll see.” He said, turning to Ellie. “Maybe you guys will be enough to distract everyone. We’re kind of... fractured, right now. It’s been a hard year.”

“But we’ll explain all that once everyone is together. Maybe we could use that as a way for everyone to work through their issues? Everyone gets a turn to tell the story?” He said. “That way we understand each other better. It could be like a team-building exercise!” He was starting to look excited. Isaac knew better than to argue.

“We should get going. The subway isn’t far. We can walk from here.” He said instead.

“Good; my car would probably rattle apart if I tried to squeeze everyone in.” Ellie said, trying for humor, and it earned at least a smile from the Beacon Hills betas. She grabbed her purse and keys, and they set out after double checking the house to make sure everything was secure. They’d had enough break-ins three months ago to last a lifetime.

As they neared the subway, the white-eyed wolves started to smell the territory line for the first time. Stronger the nearer they got, but nothing like around their property. The first night they had moved in, the male wolves had been adamant about marking, despite Ellie's insistence it could wait. She wasn't as insecure in her place as the two younger boys.

When they passed the Beacon wolf’s markers, Ellie was the one who was nervous. They had come to Beacon Hills for anonymity... but mostly for Ellie's. The boys got lonely easily, especially Bo, who wasn't used to being alone. Jimmy had always been lonely, but his taste of popularity before they left had been enough to make him seek attention and praise from his peers, even if he was quick to make a snide comment or nasty observation if he thought someone was taking an interest in doing so. Ellie was a loner. She had few friends, and didn’t feel the desire to make more. She wanted to be left alone, to be safe. Her brief foyer into dating, the first time since their parents died, had ended in her boyfriend going crazy and trying to kill her younger brother. After that, she was done with the concept of dating, and for the most part in dealing with people outside of her profession. This meeting wasn’t for her, it was for the boys.

When they walked down the steps into the main body of the subway, there was only one person there; he was out if sight, but they could smell him in the space. He seemed to be the one that was here most often.

"Derek?" Scott called, and there was a rustle from one of the old subway cars before he came out. Bo's face showed did a poor job of hiding his shock. He had been expecting a creepy, kind of grimy vagrant. He lived in an abandoned subway, for gods sake. Instead, an attractive younger guy who had gel in his hair for gods sake.

Ellie was similarly shocked, but Derek made her uneasy instead of pleasantly surprised. He was a born wolf, attractive, mysterious, dark and kind of broody-- everything Jake had been before he turned into a psycho who tried to kill her brother. Her heartbeat sped up, and Jimmy stepped in front of her, a subconscious reaction to her fear, to block his sister from something that she perceived as a threat. Derek cocked his head, confused; people were scared of him, sure, but the sort of just-under-the-skin panic that he was getting from Ellie wasn’t the normal fear.

“My name is Derek Hale.” He said, to fill the silence that was stretching while everyone stared at Ellie, waiting for an explanation she wasn’t keen to give.

“Ellie Meyers.” She murmured, looking away from him and crossing her arms.

“I’m Bo.” He shook Derek’s hand, the only one to do so.

“Jimmy Meyers. We’re from L.A.” Jim offered, not shaking hands because he scared Ellie, but being friendly because he understood it wasn’t his fault.

“Los Angeles? I’m not surprised you’re here. It’s too urban for a wolf to be happy long. They haven’t had a pack in years, however... so what alpha turned you?” He asked.

“That’s kind of the question of the day. But we’ll wait until everyone gets here to explain.” Jimmy said, and Derek nodded, an acceptance of the delay, but his expression said that he wouldn’t wait too long for an explanation. He didn’t strike as the particularly patient sort.

Peter was the next to arrive, still dressed for work. “Ms. Meyers. You’ll forgive my rude greeting earlier. I assume the child delinquents have informed you on why that was?” He said by way of greeting. “My nephew hasn’t been glaring too long, has he?” His smile was all charm, next to narcissism.

“Peter...” It was a warning tone from Derek, and it made the hair on the back of Ellie’s neck stand on end, her wolf’s hackles raising in a defensive posture. From the look of him, sarcastic and a bit challenging, it made Peter’s do the same.

“Just making friendly conversation, Derek. I figured you wouldn’t mind being the butt of the joke to put our new guests at ease. One of their bloodline, you shouldn’t be in such a hurry to insult them.” The sarcasm was still there, but his heartbeat didn’t skip in the tell of a lie... no, he was truly wary of their tempers. It confused the L.A. wolves.

“You know something about us?” Ellie demanded, and he smiled.

“You don’t? Oh, how... intriguing. I can’t wait for the rest to arrive and hear your no doubt thrilling tale of woe.” He offered her a slick smile.

“Are you ever useful?” The tone, caustic and slightly dusted with bitterness, came from the door, where Stiles was coming in.

“Do you ever stop wearing plaid?” Peter asked, in a mimicking tone.

“Not on your life.” Stiles turned away from him, as if to ignore him, and that rankled more than any insult could. “So, new wolves, not bad wolves? I’m confused.” He flopped on Derek’s couch, where Derek looked unamused but not enough so to complain.

“We are too.” Allison was at the door, her and Lydia arriving at the same time. They sat on the loveseat, opposite the standing Peter and Derek, and pointedly looking at the new people in the room and not at them.

“Once Deaton gets here, we’ll explain--”

“Deaton’s here, Scott. So go on ahead.” The vet smiled as he sat primly on a barstool by the door, behind and separate from everyone else. He reminded Jim of the crows you see in wolf documentaries; following the pack, eating their leftovers, playing with the wolves, but knowing when to steer clear.

“Oh, I didn’t see you come in.” Scott said, and Deaton just nodded, a calm smile erupting again along with a gesture that told him to get on with it. Scott smiled back, and got the introductions out of the way; Allison and Lydia seemed excited to have another girl in their midst, and were friendly toward Ellie at least. Jim was excited to pick Deaton’s brain on werewolves, and Bo got on well with everyone. Since he wasn’t as... hostile, didn’t have reason to be as hostile, he was mellow and friendly with everyone. The rock of the two volatile siblings he called pack.

“Now that we’ve broken the ice... I guess we should start with the story?” Scott suggested, looking at the circle of his people, fractured with strife, but the core was still there. Hanging on by threads. Now to see if he could weave it back together enough to get through the trouble everyone could feel hanging over their head.


	2. Three Tales Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two packs share their stories, and Peter enlightens everyone on why the L.A. wolves are so different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cabbages. I just spent 3 straight hours writing this chapter in the wee hours of the morning, and I'm going to post it before I second-guess myself (again). It's probably got errors, please feel free to tell me about them! I appreciate your feedback!
> 
> Some notes I forgot to mention before:   
> Scott learns about the Alpha pack earlier than canon in this fic; instead of the beginning of season 3, it's the end of season 2. Also, I'm living on in denial of the death of Boyd, Erica, and later on Allison. So there's going to be some changes a-coming.

Scott looked hopefully around at everyone, who gathered in a circle, pulling barstools from the kitchen and dining chairs from the table. “We will probably need a mediator.” Deaton suggested, not unkindly, and Scott nodded. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. “Having the most experience doing so, and the least amount of bias, I offer my services.” The veterinarian offered smoothly.

“Least amount of bias? Please.” Peter grumbled, but was ignored, as he expected to be. Manipulators, movers and shapers, recognized others that held similar skills. Peter was just more obvious about it at current. There was a time, when people trusted him, that he was subtle. Now that subtlety was a moot point; everyone was searching for his misdirections. He had to be blunt to regain their trust, get them adjusted to his bluntness so that when he again used subtlety it would be overlooked. Deaton still enjoyed the trust placed in him.

“I think that would be a good idea. So, the story... where do we begin?” Scott asked.

“Hold on. I think the mystery wolves should go first. They’re the unknown here.” Lydia said, her tone brooking no argument, as it normally didn’t. Jim looked geared up to argue anyway, but Ellie put a hand on his shoulder.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll tell ours.” She said simply, and he pursed his lips, but nodded and slid back in his seat again. “It started with... well, with a guy.” The women in the room looked less than enthused-- that seemed to be the starter of the evening. “I met him, we started seeing each other, and then he did the same thing to me as he did to every other girl in L.A. that struck his fancy. He got moody, and insisted he needed space. I said fine, I didn’t push it... but that night, I picked up my brother from the pier, and... we hit something in the car. We were arguing, I wasn’t paying attention, and we hit something and then skid into another car, and it took both cars off the road.”

“When we came to, we went to check on the other driver, and she was stuck. We got her loose eventually, but then something came in through the other window. Jimmy grabbed her before it could drag her off, and I grabbed Jimmy... It dragged us through the underbrush for a few feet before biting Jim and scratching me up pretty good, and took the other driver. She... she was ripped in half.” Ellie whispered the last. “I said I wasn’t sure what it was. They said wild animal, maybe a bear. Jim...”

“I knew it was a wolf.” Jim spoke up. “I told them, it was a giant wolf, but no one believed me. That was the start of everything.” He said. “That was the first time I saw one of us.” He murmured. “I didn’t put it together for a while, until I started doing some research. I noticed I had the Mark of the Beast, on my palm.” He said, and everyone perked up.

“I’ve read about that in the bestiary, but it’s only--”

“Hush. All in due time.” Deaton hushed her, and while she didn’t look happy, Lydia wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back into the couch, soothing her with a hand on her shoulder. They got an odd look from the L.A. wolves, but they continued after a moment.

“I tried to tell Ellie, but she decided lying to me would be a good idea to convince me--”

“I thought you were paranoid! I thought you were going crazy!”

“No, you thought you could sweep it under the rug and deny it like everything else that goes wrong!” He snapped, and her eyes flashed, but she didn’t dispute it.

“This isn’t the place.” She hissed.

“This is exactly the place.” Deaton contradicted gently. “This is an airing of grievances as much as a sharing of stories. As much for your pack as ours.” He added.

“You were Tahlia's emissary, not Derek’s. Don’t mistake yourself for pack.” Peter growled in the direction of the veterinarian, but subsided at Derek’s glare... though he was pointedly not corrected. There was no trust between the elder sage and Derek either.

“ _Anyway_ , please continue.” Deaton invited.

“Yes. Well, after we were attacked, things started changing. At the same time, murders started up. Women. Women who’d been with Jake, the same man that I’d been seeing. Jake, who suddenly was interested in me again, and this time in a less healthy way.” She shivered at the reminder. “Everything came to a head the night of the full moon. We found out that an ex of Jake’s, Joanie, was killing women that got between her and Jake. The police killed her, shot her several times, and shot her in the head at least once. She was, well and truly, dead. We thought it was over.”

“Everything I’d read said that if we severed the bloodline, we would be cured. We thought Joanie must be the born wolf, the start of the bloodline. Our cure. And then Jake showed up... showed up for Ellie.” Jim whispered.

“Joanie was the one that turned us, but not the start of the line. Jake was. He tried to force me to mate with him, and said that he’d kill Jim, because there’s only room in his pack for one alpha male, and he was a threat.” Ellie said. “I killed him. He... sort of just combusted afterward. There was nothing left but ash. We thought it was over. We went back to our normal lives. We didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to change, as we had when Jake was alive, we assumed all the rest was just the aftereffects.” She said. “The first time we knew otherwise, it was too late.”

“I was practicing for the wrestling team with Bo, and we were tussling, and I bit him. It was playful, I never meant to hurt him, but when I got my teeth on him it was like my brain lit on fire. Next thing I knew, he was bleeding on the ground, and Ellie was putting pressure on it. He was feverish the whole night, and it was close, but in the morning... the bite was healed. We knew we couldn’t stay in L.A. after that.”

“And I wasn’t about to let this crazy dude go running off without me.” Bo said, with a nonchalant grin and a friendly fist to Jim’s shoulder. “He’s the brains of this operation.” He gave him a smile, trying to cheer up his friend and the wolf who turned him. He got a small, but genuine, smile in return.

“What’s the story between you two?” Lydia asked, and Bo blushed faintly.

“He was my classic school bully with an odd fixation on calling me a fairy.” Jim said dryly, and Bo’s blush got brighter. “When I threw it back at him, after my aggression kicked in, he showed up on my doorstep and admitted that he was gay and tried to kiss me.” He added.

“And then he stole my girlfriend.” Bo said, remarkably well-tempered about the whole thing.

“Brooke was nice, and I liked her.” Jim said.

“Yeah, I liked her too. Just not in the way you did.” Bo said, with a bit of light teasing to his tone. He grinned back at him.

“So you two are...?” Allison asked, looking a bit confused.

“Friends. Best friends.” Jim said firmly. Bo stayed silent, tellingly to the rest of the wolves. It was clear to them that the feelings that Bo held for Jim were elsewise. No one mentioned it; there was enough drama without bringing that sort of thing into it. Bo was inclined to agree, and hadn’t spoken to Jim about it since the night he’d admitted his feelings originally. Jim had passed it off as ‘animal allure’ and never mentioned it to Bo again. And Bo never mentioned that his feelings had started long before he’d been turned.

“And then we came here, to get a fresh start.” Ellie added, with a bit of a sigh.

“I’m sorry you came at such a difficult time. Before all this mess started, things would have been perfect for you and your two boys to come. I wish you could have the peace that Beacon Hills can be for our people.” Peter said, uncharacteristically sincere as he put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. Everyone looked a bit shocked; even Derek, stoic man though he usually was, had his eyebrows raised. Ellie smiled tightly.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but the fact is we’re here now. And we’re here to stay. I can’t afford to relocate us again, emotionally or monetarily, and so it’ll just have to do.” She said. “We’ll do whatever we have to, to _make_ it work.” She said, giving a significant look to her boys, and then to Derek. There was a steely glitter to her eyes that said she wasn’t going to give up easily.

“Good. We have our new resident’s story, and now they have earned ours.” Deaton hinted. “Who would like to go first?” He asked, and Peter sighed.

“Can we not be here all evening? I do have work to do. Can we not simply tell it as they did? They were time efficient. Elect one to tell it, and then others jump in with pertinent information?” Peter complained, and Deaton gave a look around the room. There was agreement, though reluctant due to it being Peter they were agreeing with.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Deaton said reluctantly. “Too much has happened to retell it so much. So, who shall we have tell our history?” He asked, and Isaac immediately chimed in.

“Scott. I think Scott should tell it. He’s sort of where it started. At least, where it started and can remember.” He said, with a bit of a glare at Peter. It was ineffectual, to say the least. The others agreed to Scott.

“Okay, well... I guess I should start the night I was bitten.” He said, and proceeded to tell their history in slightly jilted sentences, as if unsure what he was saying was right. It went well, except for a few key issues.

The first was Peter’s resurrection. “I did what I had to do to survive.” Peter grumbled under the pressure of Lydia’s glare.

“You attacked me, and if that wasn’t enough trauma, you then invaded my mind, made me hallucinate, and then sent me into a fugue state in which I resurrected you, a mass-murderer.” She nearly snarled. “But that’s all okay, because Princess Peter got to come back to life. I don’t think so.” Lydia growled.

“My entire family was murdered in cold blood, but I’m the one who gets glared at, and scorned, and called a mass-murderer! I was trapped in my own mind, reliving that nightmare, over and over, day after day, for years. But I’m an unforgivable mass-murderer. But my emotional trauma is somehow less valid than yours?” He demanded.

“You violated my mind! Made me do and see things that I never should have!” She nearly yelled, standing up.

“Do you think I enjoyed it?! I did what I had to, and I refuse to be sorry for wanting to live, after everything that I’ve lost!” He raised his voice too, and Allison stood, as well as Deaton. Deaton to seperate; Allison to defend.

“There were a thousand other ways to do what you did.” Lydia said, and he snorted.

“If there were, sweetheart, everyone would be doing it. Resurrection is hard, it’s not as simple as you seem to think.”

“I’m no one’s sweetheart, Peter Hale. And next time you call me that will be the last time you have a jaw to speak to me with.” She hissed, and he tutted.

“Threats? Trivial, Lydia, you can do better. As much as I think you’re being childish about this, I acknowledge that what I did was... unacceptable. And I do realize that it’s not something you may forgive me for.” He had his sincere eyes back, though under a much better mask than before. “But I couldn’t end as I did. I couldn’t let them win.” He said simply, looking her in the eyes. “And I’m sorry you were the only way, I’m sorry I couldn’t leave you be after what I put you through. I am sorry that I hurt you, and I respect you for your strength even in the face of someone who has shown the ability to carelessly disregard what you have gone through. But I am not sorry for my resurrection, and doing whatever I had to in order to achieve it.” Peter ended his monologue to silence. There was yet more shock. Peter, this evening, was showing himself to be more human than he had since his return. All snappy comebacks and dry wit since his return, no one had heard true sincerity out of him until this evening. “Is that enough to appease  you?” He asked, after a long hesitation from a very shocked Lydia. Even Deaton was looking taken aback.

“It will do. For now.” She said, still not sure what to say, and sat down heavily again. Allison followed after a moment, shooting glares at Peter as she pulled Lydia close in a comforting gesture. Scott was looking dumbfounded, and Deaton cleared his throat.

“Well. We should... continue. Then.” He said, far less smoothly than his usual delivery.

“Yeah, yeah we should.” Scott said, and so the story continued until the next point of contention. The death of Victoria Argent.

“I only bit the Argent Matriarch to protect you, Scott! Don’t try and pin that all on me just because your girlfriend’s here and you don’t think she can handle it.” He growled.

“What... Scott, what is he talking about?” Allison demanded, though she looked none the better for the mention of her mother... still, it was better than directly after, when she’d gone trigger-happy.

“Victoria attacked Scott. I defended him, and I bit her in the process. I could have helped her through the change, I would have, but she decided to follow the Argent tradition. She took her own life rather than change.” Derek said, bluntly. After Allison’s blatant disregard for the safety of his pack, no matter what the circumstances, he wasn’t of a mind to be gentle with her feelings.

“Scott, is that true?” Allison asked, looking at him with large, pained eyes. He couldn’t look at her, but slowly nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you at least...?” She trailed off.

“I didn’t want you to remember your mom like that.” He said softly, and she smiled at his caring, but her eyes were still filled with tears unshed. Lydia wrapped her up in her arms, and then rocked gently, helping each other through their mutual heartaches.

“Then... There’s nothing more to say. On that.” Allison said, looking at Derek with a sort of forgiveness, which would have annoyed him --had had done nothing requiring forgiveness, because what he had done was not wrong-- were it not for the understanding beneath it. They, at least, would have fewer problems between them now.

The story only stopped for one more point... Scott forcing Derek to bite Gerard. “I had a plan, I knew it would work!” Scott said defensively.

“Was it worth taking my will away from me, betraying my trust?” Derek said, almost gently, as if talking to a child.

“The ends justified the means.” Scott argued.

“Now you sound like Peter.” Derek said simply. “They don’t, Scott. Not always.” He said simply, turning away in an obvious signal that he was done with the conversation.

“Derek... I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I didn’t know what else to do.” Scott said.

“How about tell me, Scott? I would have done it. I would have followed your plan. You didn’t have to force me.” Derek said, and Scott looked more pained than Derek.

“I just... wanted it to stop. All the death. I did what I could.” Scott said quietly.

“I know.” Was all Derek said, in the way that indicated he was not forgiven, but he was understood. Deaton, when it was obvious no one was going to speak again, stood up and moved to the center of the room.

“Now that the bulk is done, I will defer to Peter for the explination of our new resident’s strangeness. I suppose you picked up on our basic structure from our stories and the pack?” He clarified, and the L.A. wolves nodded, looking struck by all the information they’d just been given. He nodded to Peter.

“Thank you for the floor, Alan.” he said smoothly, making the vet twitch. No one called him Alan, and certainly not Peter. “Gather round, children, it’s time for an ancient tale.” He said, looking a bit gleeful. Stiles perked up for the first time since the L.A. wolves’ story. He may not like the man, but he did like his knowledge. “It’s pertinent, trust me.” He chuckled.

“Long ago, in France, there was a werewolf raised by wolves instead of humans. He was so feral, so vicious, it earned the title La Bête du Gévaudan. The Beast of Gévaudan. He killed whole villages in a single night, he led an uprising against the humans that was not to be rivalled. He said that as wolves, we were the greater race, that we should never have allowed ourselves to be forced into hiding. He was very charismatic, for a feral, and he was made an Alpha. He gained power, a lot of power, and slowly the druids, our good Emissary’s people, recognized the threat he served to the balance. They cast a curse upon him, a powerful curse that should have made him human; it was a curse designed to strip rogue druids, darachs, of their power. An art long lost. But as we know, no force can change a werewolf from his nature. Their spell reacted ill with the werewolf. Instead of making him human, it did the opposite. It made it impossible for him to have a beta form.” He said. “He was stronger, faster, more powerful. He could use his wolf senses as a man, but if he wanted to change... that was where it got strange. It was painful and slow, yes, but it was an incredibly powerful alpha form that could turn no matter place in pack hierarchy. As you can imagine, this was the opposite of a problem for his leadership.” He said. “He was crowned something of a King to our people. Had he not been slain... history might have been very different. Nonetheless, he was crowned, and the descendants of his line inherited his abnormalities. They are still considered royalty, whether turned or born into the bloodline, in much of Europe and Asia. Wolves who had white eyes, the mark of the beast, a painful aversion to silver...” He said, looking at the new wolves with meaning.

“Are you saying we’re part of this Beast’s bloodline?” Jim clarified.

“Indeed I am. You killed your born link to the bloodline, so that would have weakened it enough for the mark to go away and for you to flash your eyes, pop claws or teeth individually perhaps. It would have lessened the pull of the moon. Nonetheless, for all of you but especially for your Bo, the bond is very solid. You are a Lyall, the modern descendants of Gévaudan.” Peter said simply. “The Kings and Queens of the Wolves. The original of which the Argent family made it’s name in killing.” He pierced Allison with a look, though it was lost on her pale face and distant eyes. She had read the old tale for herself, but taken it mostly for exaggeration.

“It is why I was so very confused and surprised to see you, especially, Ellie. Women can rarely be turned into the Lyall line, and to hear of not only one but two outside of the highly protected European estates that most of their ladies never leave... well, it was shocking. They are protective of their ladies because they are a dying line, and a Lyall is a prize any Hunter would be proud of. The female Lyalls rarely emerge into the public, because they are at such a high risk. To see you, obviously Lyall, and with no protections at all...” He trailed off.

“I didn’t ask to be this.” Ellie said, a bit resentful of the awe in his tone.

“I am aware, but you are nonetheless.” He said simply. “And I am honored to have you on the ancestral Hale territory.” he said simply. “I am glad you have chosen to be here. You will make strong, good additions to the pack, should you choose to join it.” He said, warmly, and Derek gave him a strange look. He wasn’t averse to the three in his pack, but he was averse to Peter simply inviting them without consulting him. He was the Alpha, not Peter.

“I don’t know if--” Ellie started.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Jim said simply, looking at Peter with keenly interested eyes. He wanted to pick the man’s brain for information, and he didn’t mind the people in this pack. His wolf ached for a pack, and while he had his sister and Bo, it wasn’t enough to make him feel content. Bo was looking at Ellie, wondering if she would follow Jim.

“We’ll see.” She said after a moment. “We’ll call this a trial period. We’ll see how we get along.” She said, and her and Derek shared a nod. And so their packs were joined, at least in the coming tribulations.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All righty, guys! What a wild ride. Sorry it was kind of abrupt, but I wanted to get the story moving. I have a couple of requests from you guys:   
> 1\. Suggest pairings! I've got a few I like, but what do you see working in this fic? I know I asked this last chapter too, but I'm still looking for your input. :)  
> 2\. As always, any comment is welcome! (Just be polite). I love hearing what you guys think about this so far!


	3. Preperations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, mostly to lead into the next one, which will definitely be longer. I blame insomnia for the appearance of this so quickly after the last, and for any typos (seriously, I'm sure there's some, I'll be glad to fix them if someone tells me where, lol). It's mostly filler, I admit, but there's some good character interactions and such in here, and it gives me a chance to get your opinion on a VERY important topic at the end, so enjoy!

“Great. In honor of pack unity, pizza is required.” Stiles said, nearly throwing himself off the couch and at his cell phone, charging in the kitchenette. Deaton slipped out unnoticed, not wanting to overstay his welcome. His part in the reconciliation had been played.

“Oh mighty alpha, make food happen.” He said, after a moment of looking frantically for a phone book to find a pizza place. Derek gave a small, smug smile, but said nothing as he pulled out his phone and ordered quietly.

“Hey, free food out of the deal.” Jim teased Ellie, who smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Good, you two eat me out of house and home.” She shot back, and Stiles laughed.

“Teenage werewolves eat like, at least three times their body weight a day.” He said, kicking Scott lightly as he sat back over the couch.

“As opposed to Stiles, who is capable of eating only twice his weight.” Peter said dryly.

“Whatever, you’d be bored without me, crazyflakes.” He said.

“I detest that moniker.” Peter sighed, but it sounded more resigned than anything else.

“Good.” Stiles gave a pleasant, customer-service smile, and Peter sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Well, not that this hasn’t been enlightening, but I have work to do. Call me if one of you ends up on the brink of death. Again.” He said tightly, looking at his watch and grabbing his jacket.

“You’d only finish us off!” Stiles sang after him. He was tactfully ignored, though Peter paused on his way out the door next to Ellie.

“It was a pleasure, Ms. Meyers. I hope you will not be put off of me by first impressions. It would truly be an honor to get to know you further.” He kissed her hand, and she let him, but drew her hand away quickly as he again swept for the door. She felt the need to wash her hands at least thrice after he touched her... he just seemed an oily, sticky sort of person. Cloying, like the smell of overripe fruit.

Lydia leaned over to her, smiling in a sympathetic sort of way. “He does that. Flirts. When he was in my head, he did it with me. It is... unpleasant, but he’s harmless for the most part, now. He’s weakened by his resurrection. And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure he realizes he does it, at least, not all the time.” She offered, and Ellie smiled.

“That doesn’t stop me from wanting to scrub my hand until I feel less... slimy.” She said, with a disarming smile.

“No, around Peter that never leaves.” She sighed. “But enough about him.” Lydia said, almost sternly.

“It’s nice to have another girl around, I have to admit. I was starting to think I could smell the testosterone.” Allison jumped in, with a sweet, inviting smile. Ellie had no trouble believing that.

“I can tell. With my boys and yours, we’re going to need all the estrogen we can muster. Jim, since his turn, only seems to calm down when Bo or I remind him to cool it.” Ellie said, and Jim growled at her from his rather animated conversation with Stiles about... Batman? Maybe. Something to do with comic books. Bo and Scott were getting along, both with their well-meaning personalities and interest in sports. It did settle Ellie, actually, to see her pack so at ease so quickly, though she couldn’t help but be suspicious. Things never went this well for her family. Still... maybe they deserved a little happiness. She wasn’t quick to look a gift horse in the mouth, anyway.

“I think it’s a phase. The ‘I’m a badass now’ phase. All of our turned wolves seemed to go through it, though they’re getting over it.” Allison chuckled. “You should have seen Isaac right after he turned. We called him and the others the Leather Jacket Brigade.” Lydia said, with a smug smile in his direction. He glared.

“It was one time, Lydia, and I wasn’t even wearing leather.” He said, and she just smirked.

“The scarves make up for that.” She said dryly. He opted to go back to his conversation rather than continue with the bickering. Lydia was no fun to bicker with; she always won. Although her and Allison got in some impressive matches, sometimes, and Derek was a match for her when he could be goaded into joining. It was a rare occurrence.

“So... is your pack always so...?” Ellie trailed off, not wanting to offend her.

“Caustic? Usually.” Lydia chuckled. “Feelings don’t get hurt if everyone does it. After everything, we need a safe place where we can let go and not worry about what we say. We made that space here, Derek’s loft. Admittedly, Allison and I haven’t come here for a while since Derek hasn’t been too... fond, of us, lately. But he’s never told us we couldn’t.” She said. “I think you getting here will be good for us. Give us some new people to rally around, give us a purpose. We’ve got to show you guys the ropes of Beacon Hills, and we can’t do that if we’re fighting.” She said, with a smile.

Derek cleared his throat, from the middle of the room. It was an effective alert; Derek was a quiet person by nature, and when he readied to speak it got attention. “Before we eat, I would like to inform you that I would like to hold a hunt. Normally, we would wait until the first full moon, but I think we need the bonding, to solidify the ground gained today and to avoid slipping back into rivalry. It’ll be a chance to bring the new members into the pack, as well.” He said, and Ellie gave wide, slightly frightened eyes.

“Deer, Ellie. We’re hunting deer.” He said, when he caught her look. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, and blushed. She hadn’t meant to imply her worry, but... Jake had hunted humans. “And it’ll help your teenage boys to work out some of that aggression.” He chuckled, and Jim shrugged.

“I’m game.” He said, and Bo just nodded, gaining the competitive gleam to his eye that he’d always had. He looked around.

“Now, I don’t want anyone to be surprised. When we fell a deer, there will be a little infighting. Don’t be afraid. Your baser instincts are just going to tussle to figure out where they sit in the pack. Some of you may even challenge me, and thats fine too. We need to work out our baser natures, so that all the interactions after that are less irritable. A wolf who doesn’t know it’s place is an unhappy wolf.” He said, and the last sounded almost recited. Isaac arched an eyebrow.

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the dusty old tomes you’ve been staying up reading?” He said, and Derek nodded.

“Past Alpha diaries. I’ve been doing some reading. I... want to be better. I want to be a better alpha, so if...” he trailed off, but the meaning was clear. If Boyd and Erica came back, they might stay. He’d taken the loss of his pack very, very hard.

“Is there a point to eating before we go?” Scott asked.

“Yes; eat enough to fill you, by the time the hunt is over you’ll be hungry again, and if you’re not hungry when you start you won’t be as aggressive.” He explained. The doorbell rang, and Derek left to get it. That seemed to signal the end of the discussion, and when the pizzas --five of them, which Ellie momentarily thought was excessive, until four of them were gone immediately-- were set down, everyone dug in.

“Derek. Derek, what is this. Travesty! Blasphemy!” Stiles was looking at the last pizza in horror. Derek smirked, picking up a small silver shape and popping it in his mouth.

“Anchovies.” He said, chipperly.

“You’re the only one who likes anchovies!” Stiles whined, and he grinned.

“Alpha’s privileges.” He said in a smug purr, taking a large portion of the pizza and taking it to the comfy living chair to eat. Stiles took a piece, grudgingly, and picked off the anchovies fastidiously.

“So, are the humans just going to wait for the wolves to go play puppy?” Lydia asked, and Derek shook his head.

“Humans can hunt with wolves. They just aren’t involved in the felling, eating, and dominance-fighting, generally. Humans run with us.” He said. Stiles almost choked.

“I can’t even run on a flat surface, and you want me to triapse around the forest, in the dark, at high speeds? If you wanted to kill me, Der, there are easier ways.” He complained.

“Ah, but not as fun.”

“Was that a joke? Did McBroody just make a joke? Oh my god, call 911, he’s dying.”

“Shut up, Stiles.” He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re coming.” He added, as an afterthought.

“I’ll bet I can keep up with you.” Allison said, beaming a challenge at Scott and Isaac. Isaac scoffed, but looked secretly interested; Scott didn’t even bother trying for aloof, just grinning.

“You’re on!” He said. Lydia flicked her hair. No one questioned whether she could keep up, though most wondered if she’d be wearing the heels she’d had one when she came into the loft. Then again, Lydia Martin was about intelligence. She’d probably keep up by bending the laws of physics, for all they knew.

“Bet I can find a deer faster than you.” Bo said, poking Jim in the ribs.

“Please. Learn from the master, baby wolf.” He teased.

“You’re literally only like a month more wolfy than me. And my nose is superior.” He said, turning said nose up in the air.

“It’s the abundance of nosehair.” Jim said dryly.

“Hey!” Bo said, hitting him in the arm, and he just smirked.

“Now, children, let’s not fight. You’ll both find a perfectly lovely bambi, I’m sure.” Stiles teased, and Jim stuck his tongue out at him.

“Just like I’m sure you’ll find a perfectly lovely tree root to trip on.” He shot back.

“Please. I’m the picture of grace.” That got a bark of laughter out of Scott, before he covered his mouth sheepishly and blushed. Stiles glared playfully at him. “Not helping, dude.” He teased.

When the food was finished, and the kitchen cleaned, Derek stood up. “All right. We don’t have enough room in my car for everyone, but if we carpool, there should be enough between Stiles’ Jeep, my Camaro, and Lydia’s Camry.” He said. “Stiles, take Scott, Jim and Bo. Lydia, take Allison and Ellie. Isaac, you can ride with me or the girls.” Derek said, and Isaac went to flank him.

“I’ll keep you company.” He said, and everyone headed out the door. “Hey... shouldn’t we text Peter? Since it’s a pack thing...” Stiles asked, and Derek shrugged.

“I did. He said he would rather bond with the pack in a way that didn’t incite his bloodlust.” He said. Everyone who remembered what Peter’s bloodlust could cause shuddered. He wasn’t mentioned again.

Derek led the caravan on the long, winding road into the preserve, taking a fork in the road away from the Hale house. He pulled off into a meadow far away from town, and the rest followed suit.

“Here we are... it’s calm, quiet, and no one has any chance of running into humans.” He said. “That said, be careful with the humans we have, okay?” Derek didn’t look worried, but there was a tone of warning. “Shall we go?” he asked, and Ellie cleared her throat.

“We’re going to need a minute.” She said, and he nodded, looking confused. The three L.A. wolves removed their shoes, stripping while everyone politely averted their eyes. They couldn’t afford new clothes every time they shifted.

Ellie was the first to change, with a deep breath and then a slow exhale as she let the fur run under her skin, erupting and changing, her bones shifting; her face elongated, a wolfish head on a hulking, bipedal form, hunched over for running on all fours but built to fight and kill standing on two. She was an attractive honey color with dark brown lowlights running through her fur. She fell onto all four paws as her change finished, and watched as the boys followed; first Jimmy, then Bo. Jimmy, a wolf black as pitch except for in the sunlight, where it got a mahogany tone. Bo’s wolf was an auburn-red, the most distinctive and also the smallest of the three wolves.

When the stepped into the line of sight of the others, there was every surprised reaction short of a gasp. Even Derek, who had heard the legends of the Lyall family, was surprised at the level of change that three very young wolves could achieve. Ellie trotted over to him, sniffing him over him and then sneezing. He chuckled, before ditching his shirt and shifting also. He hadn’t managed a full shift, yet, but Peter kept saying he had the potential. He only hoped that Peter was right. As the rest of the Pack readied themselves, Derek had only the hope that tonight would go well. He needed a unified pack; having new blood come in had only made that clear to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, guys, short like I said. But now I get to beg you for input on one of the most important questions yet!  
> 1\. How do you think the hierarchy should go? The humans are not involved, but my main concern is that both Ellie and Derek are Alphas. How do you think this should be solved? How about the betas? Who goes where?   
> 2\. As always, suggestions and corrections are welcome!


	4. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack hunts as one, establishes a hierarchy, and bonds over the safety and security of pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you can thank both insomnia and my birthday for this chapter. XD As you'll probably start to notice, I see werewolves as very tactile, since wolves in packs often are. So all the touching isn't supposed to be romantic, it's just to feel close to the other members of the pack. This is a pretty dense chapter, with not much dialogue, and probably some errors. If you see them, let me know, dear readers. :)
> 
> By the way, if you want to come visit over on tumblr, my url is kyblogslife.tumblr.com :)

Once the run began, the only things the wolves could notice for a while was the smell that surrounded them; the smooth, cold scent of the blue oaks, the sharp, almost spicy manzanitas, the bittersweet of the prarifire and Japanese crabapples, melted and reformed into a unique smell that told them where they were and how far from the edge of the forest they were. As they went deeper, following the deer trails cut through the california lilacs and snowberry, the scent changed to the bright-frost of chaste trees and the saccharine of the chanticleer and capital pears, almost too sweet. It was cut by the electric, enticing blood-scent of the scarlet oaks and red maples, some of the oldest trees other than the rare towering coastal redwood or valley oak.

Slowly, ever so slowly, as they ran, they began to regain a sense of self outside of the hunt; Derek first, as he had known this feeling before. He was quicker to get used to the sensation, though not to leading as he was. It came almost naturally, his instincts telling him when to round back to collect a straggling or ranging pack member, or to chase down a certain scent. It helped, of course, that he wasn’t the only alpha here. It rankled, a little, to know that certain members of what smelled like his pack would follow her over him. And yet it was comforting, because Derek was not the only new alpha here, and she was almost better at rounding up the rambunctious teenage boys than he was. She probably had more practice at preventing mutiny, with her two boys’ frequent rebellions and insurrections, Derek might think, if he was inclined to admit she was better at something than him.

Next to come to themselves were Ellie and Scott; Ellie because she was a rational person, and to not have her wits about her was as unlike her wolf as it was unlike her human form. Scott simply had practice reigning in the power ebbs and flows that the wolf could raise; he was good at recalling his anchor, no longer Allison, but his mother. His supportive, but still firmly grounded mother, who kept him Scott more than wolf. The rest of the pack followed suit, Bo regaining next, and Jimmy and Isaac last. Jim had a wildness in him, further off humanity than the rest, and Isaac had much the same; as much as they snarled and snapped at each other when men, they ran together as wolves, close enough for fur to brush against fur, to race, to compete and also to enjoy the presence of another wolf who ran corybantic and didn’t bother with the same level of self-discipline as they others. Most of the pack had to keep hold of their human minds to stay safe and sane; these two boys realized that in the run, they needed the chaotic nature of the beast they could feel beating like a drum in their chest. It wasn’t unsafe; they weren’t in a frenzy. They felt calm, more focused, in a hunt than they ever had during the boy-shaped hours they spent during daylight.

Derek seemed to understand, giving them space but still leading them as an alpha needed to. If Derek were honest with himself, Isaac was likely to achieve the full shift before him. Isaac revelled in being wolf; he didn’t have the same mistrust and bad memories that Derek did. The emotional insecurity that kept him from living in the moment, a requirement for the full shift. Isaac achieved that state of mind with grace, when he left his man-shape. Derek wasn’t sure if Jim could make the full shift; he was forced into surpassing a beta form, but many considered a full wolf advanced beyond that of an alpha form. If so, Derek wouldn’t put it past him to surpass him also. There was so much they didn’t know about the curse... but there would be time for that. A lot of time in the future, if he had his way. He was revelling in something other than the hunt, for the first time since he had lost his pack in the fire. The feeling of a large pack at your side, the feeling of family. Derek may have misgivings about it, but his alpha wolf had no such hesitation. Pack was pack, and these strong, capable additions were joining his. His wolf sang in his chest at the joy of being found worthy of the strength that was accepting him as their alpha.

It also hesitated at the absence of two of it’s wolves, however. Erica and Boyd were like an ache, making him whine uneasily when he smelled their traces in the forests but couldn’t find them. He knew where they’d been taken from, could smell the blood and their fear, regret, and then... nothingness. Complete sensory darkness that made it obvious that their traces had been covered on purpose, that they’d been taken, not left, and not of their own volition. He would find them... but not tonight. Tonight was for his new pack. The full moon night in two weeks, however, when all their senses would be at their peak... his new, strong pack may be able to pick up a scent when he had been unable. Especially Ellie.

He stared into her white eyes when he could during this hunt, not a challenge but a fascination; and as he watched, he saw shocks of red go through them, like lightning, streaking through the sky of her eyes before vanishing just as quickly. He noticed because he was looking for red in the, to see the alpha in the way he was used to seeing it... and if her eyes were red lightning on a pale moon, her growl was the thunder in the stillness that followed, which she unleashed as often it pleased her to rumble with a deep, satisfied baritone. Often when she caught the scent of a mule deer, or the rarer black bear.

She passed up several passable hunts, at least to Derek, but he waited for her to pick the prize of the evening. It was said that the bigger the game, the better the bond between wolves; that’s one of the reasons they used to capture hunters and use them as the game for these hunts. The Hales had discontinued the practice earlier than most, but the tales were still told with some awe by grandfathers and grandmothers of the old bloodlines. While that was extreme, it seemed that Ellie was being particular on the quality of a kill they felled. Perhaps her deeper-rooted instincts gave her a better perspective on what would solidify the pack.

Finally she caught the scent of what was recognizably white-tailed deer, and by the size and stagger of the tracks, a large buck. A fine choice, but then, he’d thought the last was fine too.

Derek changed his mind when he saw him.

Tall and standing proud, with the largest antlers he’d ever seen, was a White Hart, framed by a copse of enormous valley oaks. His mother had told him legends, similar to the ones of his Celtic heritage; the White Hart held great significance for them, as crossing their path was known to indicate a great boon of good luck, and was the harbinger of great change to the life of those that saw him. To werewolves, they held another meaning; if, during a combining of two packs such as the one they had now, one was felled... it bade very, very well. The color of their benefactor, the moon, a White Hart was a curse upon a human if killed, but a blessed gift to a wolf. The valley oak was a powerful mystic’s tree, used by mages and pack emissaries for carving their wards or runes to enhance the already powerful magic. It was said that when they got old enough, they developed a personality, a spirit, that either blessed such actions or harshly punished mages and druids who sought to upset the balance.

The Hart paused, almost as if waiting for everyone to arrive, and there was a moment of silence as everyone stopped to stare, and the creature stared back. And then it turned it’s back, and ran.

The pack was eager to give chase.

The wolves with alpha speed sped past the creature, turning it back toward the pack on several occasions, and it led them deep into the woodlands, on a chase that lasted well into the night. Finally, the two alphas joined the fray in all seriousness, done letting the pups attempt to kill. Derek, at last, showed less hesitation than Ellie on following his instincts; she hesitated to leap, to kill, but Derek did not. While Ellie sank her teeth deep into the back haunch of the creature, Derek lept for it’s throat, striking home on the exhausted creature and tearing. Blood filled his mouth, and he killed the animal swiftly with a jerk of his teeth, breaking its neck so it did not suffer.

The pack gathered round as Ellie and Derek backed away from their kill, circling both it and each other. Sizing each other up, examining. They had to establish where their power would rest; in wolf packs, there were two alphas, a mated pair, a male and female that made hunting and territory decisions, had pups, and helped with pack conflicts. They were, needless to say, not a mated pair. It remained in question whether or not the two could preside over the pack together. Finally, Derek turned away from her, stepping to the kill and tugging at the flesh enough to take a large mouthful. Ellie, cautiously, did the same. Tentative agreement; truce. They would rule together. Were one of them to mate in the future, pack dynamics would have to be reexamined to see who was a better fit for the status.

With Ellie and Derek eating, there remained who would be the second in command. Isaac and Bo skittered out of the fray easily, not interested in a fight of that magnitude. Jimmy and Scott squared off, Jimmy’s hackles raising and shivering threateningly. Scott snarled, crouching in a position that allowed him freedom of movement; his advantage on the hulking figure of the L.A. pack’s beta was speed. He was smaller, maneuverable, and nowhere near as strong or long-armed. Jim knew it, too, as he stood up on his hindquarters, using one of his far-reaching front claws to slash threateningly at Scott, who dodged, but did not do so unbloodied; he had two thin lines of blood, the remnants of a wound already healed. A graze, but it stung like a cat scratch with lemon.

Scott snarled, but kept a better eye on his claws. Jim, for his part, was looking a bit smug. He had drawn first blood. His small victory led to a large shortcoming; he didn’t see Scott dart forward fast enough to protect his revealed chest, and five deep gouges staggered him backwards as he yelped, and then roared in annoyance. Not anger; this wasn’t a time for anger or grudges. This was a test of skill.

Again, Jim was distracted, this time by his pain instead of his hubris, and Scott darted in again, catching his leg and hamstringing him, bringing him to a knee as he whined sharply. Scott looked for a sign of defeat, hesitated, and got a large claw to the face for his trouble. He nearly shrieked with pain, and it made the humans, just arriving, flinch. Scott was on the ground, holding his face, and Jimmy launched again, sloppily, but enough to pin him down and get his teeth on his throat. Scott, quite wisely, yielded, but afterward Jim bent to lick his wounds gently, trying to soothe him. Scott pressed their foreheads together, rubbing softly as his face healed and Jim, for the first time, took pain from another, out of a desire to heal his packmate. He gave a shrill cry, in shock more than pain, and jerked, but after a moment returned and tried again. Scott just smiled; it was a common reaction. There was no need for any further fighting, the two --three-- main positions of the pack had been settled. Instead, they crowded around the kill, eating what they wanted and then curling up near each other as they changed back to humans, whining softly for each other and to cement the smell of pack.

The humans, thus far maintaining a distance, were beckoned forward by a sleepy Derek, who pulled down Stiles and Allison, having the not-incorrect inkling that if he tried to do something so personal as to wrap an arm around Lydia’s waist and pull her down as he had with the others, he would lose the arm he did so with. Instead, she levered herself down to Allison’s side, who was cuddled up on Derek’s left side with Stiles on his right. Scott lied across Stiles and Derek’s legs, and on the other side of Lydia, Isaac settled with Jimmy curling close around him and Bo protectively. Ellie moved behind Derek, the only one still a large wolf, and pressed against his back to prop him up, the length of her wrapping around him in a comforting, protective way. Their pack would be safe tonight, with her to guard them.

They lay silent, drowsy, but content, staring up through the branches of tall Engelmann Oaks at the clear night sky. The cleansing light of the moon washed over them, lulling them into comfort, and Sirius, the dog star, watching over them as they drifted into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've reached the end of the chapter! I'm especially fond of this one, as I like describing forest scenes quite a bit. I hope you're not too disappointed by how the hierarchy shook out! If you think Scott should have been second, I'm sorry, but be assured I do have a plan for him later on in which he'll be quite important to the pack. I just didn't see him as being ready mentally to really take on the responsibility of being a second, since he right around now wants to start focusing on self-improvement. Jimmy is willing to put the pack first, since he has more of a wolf mentality --though I'm sure that'll have it's own problems. ;) All right, so now it's question time!  
> 1\. Boyd, Cora and Erica question! Would you rather I brought them in sooner than canon? I've got an idea on how to do so, but I want your opinions :)  
> 2\. Are there any pairings you'll be disappointed to see happen? I've got a pretty good map in my mind, but it's still up for debate. In the next couple chapters, I'll update the pairing tags, so this is your chance to get your final calls in now that you've seen the dynamics between the wolves!  
> 3\. I'm thinking about making next chapter less wolf-centric, and focus on the humans a bit. Would that be something you'd be interested in? 
> 
> As always, I value your input dearly!


	5. The Mall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, breakfast, and a shopping trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just look at these goofballs. :)  
> As always, if you find mistakes, just give me a heads-up!

When morning light hit, bright and golden-green through the trees, Stiles was the first to wake up. He tended to rise early if he didn’t go to bed at the even hour of 4 a.m., and last night, while he’d been exhausted, he was still been asleep by midnight. The chase had taken hours, but they’d started early enough in the evening that it was done by then.

He extracted himself from the mass of softly-breathing sleepers, wandering to a Forest Service road he didn’t know was so close, where he heard a car approaching. When it pulled up, it was Peter, in a flashy hybrid that Stiles was sure had an equally flashy price tag. He was going slowly, and the engine was barely audible at the level he was running it. He was obviously under the impression they were asleep, which was mostly true, except for Stiles.

He pulled up next to Stiles and parked, getting out and smiling his charming smile. He was in a good mood, soft smiles and bright, friendly eyes as opposed to his usual shark-toothed grin and shady looks. “Good morning.” He said, with a smile, and Stiles was fairly taken aback. He was wearing a white button-up, the first two buttons left undone, and a pair of slacks that Stiles would say were blue, but Peter would probably say something like ‘periwinkle’ or ‘lavender’ or something equally fashionable. He wore a pair of aviator sunglasses in the V of his shirt that he’d been wearing as he got out of the car, and they were just a bit big for his face, but somehow that worked for him with the weird wave he had going in his hair this morning. Stiles could see how, when this man looked like this, nobody had seen his manipulations, before the fire.

“Stiles. Are the rest of them still asleep?” He asked, sitting on the hood of his car and basking in the sunlight. Most wolves revelled in moonlight, but Peter was never like most wolves. He preferred running under the sun. When he was younger, he’d liked to go to the beach on weekends, surfing, sunbathing, beach reading, when the rest of his family had preferred to stay home so they could run in the forest under the moon. His sister had used to tease him about having something wrong in the head; she’d be horrified at how right she turned out to be, ran across his mind as he recalled it, bitter and regretful, but Peter pushed that aside for now. Today was too beautiful to waste on churlishness.

“Yeah.” He said, and shuffled over, perching on the hood of the car with Peter, unsure at to whether he was allowed. Peter just smiled. He wasn’t going to worry about trivialities like who was allowed to sit on his car.

“You seem...” Stiles started, almost disturbed. “Different.” He settled on, and Peter laughed.

“You could say.” He evaded, “I like summer. It puts me in a good mood.” He said, shrugging.

“Right...” Stiles knew he wasn’t getting the whole story, and it was just a little too convenient that after a night of being completely unsupervised Peter was suddenly acting like he’d just had five years of therapy over his creeper-status. Or acting classes on how to hide it. Whichever.

“All will be revealed in time, Stiles. It always is.” He said, and it sounded so unconcerned that Stiles almost bought it.

“This is going to hurt people.” He said, sharply, because that was all he knew Peter Hale to have reason to smile about.

“No.” The response was without hesitation. “It’s just personal. I don’t wish to share it. Yet.” He said, and Stiles dropped it for now, fiddling through a long, awkward pause.

“Is this how you were?” Stiles blurted, and then bit his lip. “Before, I mean.” He said, like that cleared up his meaning. Peter had understood even without.

“No. I will never be as I was then.” He said softly. “But it is... closer. And I would not want to be as I was then.” He said. “I was no nicer of a person before. I was simply more tactful.” He said, and that was the closest Stiles had ever heard him to admitting he was wrong.

“Why, Peter. That almost sounded like you have a conscience.” Stiles said, teasing, and Peter grinned.

“It has been known to occur, you know. I’m not entirely heartless.” He said, and Stiles scoffed.

“Don’t worry, no one can tell.” He said.

“Oh, I ensure it.” He purred, in his worst evil-mastermind tone, which was so horribly overdone that it only succeeded in making the teen boy laugh.

“So, just tell me this: did you come up with this whole... self-help thing you’re apparently on?” He asked. It just seemed so... un-Peter, to care. To bother being human unless it suited him.

“No. Actually, it was Lydia.” He said, and Stiles gave him a confused look. Peter sighed. “Lydia tracked down my phone number, called me, after the whole story-telling bit, and we... talked, to try and get over her fear of me. I wasn’t disinclined when she suggested such a conversation. When it was done, she suggested that I seek... help. Obviously, I can’t just go to a therapist and tell him I went on a murder streak, but... I am doing as she asks. Seeking help.” He said, haltingly. If there was one thing Peter hated, it was admitting weakness.

“So the reason you’re so happy this morning is you went to therapy?” Stiles asked, unable to believe that Peter had gotten better in one session.

“No. Not therapy. Something else. As I said, it is personal.” He said, and cut the conversation off again. Stiles sighed, his inquisitive nature trying to get the best of him, but he tamped it down.

“Fine. I’ll take that answer for now.” He said, pointing at him dramatically. “But I will have the answer eventually, Peter Hale.” He said, and the older man just chuckled.

“I haven’t a doubt.” He said, and dipped his head in agreement.

“How did Lydia track your cell? I did wonder where she’d gotten off too for a while last night, I thought that Ellie was going to have a wolf aneurism when she realised she was gone.” Stiles asked, as an afterthought.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He said, and looked troubled at that. Stiles grinned.

“It’s Lydia, I guess.” Was all he said, and really all he needed to.

“How are you holding up?” Peter asked. “After all of this, I imagine it’s been difficult.”

“Not really. I mean, at first it was kind of surreal. But I kind of like all the chaos.” He said, with a smile. “Beats having nothing to do.” He added.

“And the others?” He asked.

“Do you care?” Stiles said, more bluntly than he intended, but Peter didn’t seem offended.

“They’re still my pack, Stiles. And a stable pack is something I value. So yes, I do care.” He said.

“They’re healing. Some more quickly than others.” Stiles said, and he nodded.

“You’re the only one not afraid to speak to me like this. Without... malice.” He said, and Stiles grinned.

“Dude, you had your chance to tear out my throat. I don’t think you’re going to bother now.” He poked Peter in the side, almost as if to prove his point, and Peter dipped his head with a smirk.

“Touche.” He said simply. He suddenly jerked to look at the wolves again, his face falling into an implacable blankness. “The others are waking.” He said softly, almost in a conciliatory whisper. Stiles just rolled his eyes, but went over to the others and jumped on Scott’s back the minute he was on his feet, crowing about how his friend was totally badass.

Peter walked to the kill, looking at it with a peculiar sort of smile. Almost fondness, but not nearly happy enough for that. Derek came up beside him. “What?” It was almost a snap, defensive of his kill.

“The last of the Hale line to kill a White Hart was your grandfather, my father. And with it he brought eighty long years of peace, until his death. I hope that this is a good omen, as it was with him.” Peter said. Derek only nodded; Peter was reminiscing, as he did sometimes. Derek was less than impressed.

“You should have been here.” Derek accused.

“It wasn’t wise.” Peter growled, locking eyes with him.

“It was a pack hunt! A bonding activity! If anyone needs to be bonded closer, it is you!” Derek hissed.

“It. Wasn’t. Wise.” Peter repeated, slower, as if talking to a child. “I am weak, even a glancing blow from the Hart, or even from one of your betas, could put me back weeks in recovery. I wasn’t willing to risk it. You leave the old and the sick at home during a hunt, Derek, or have you forgotten everything you eavesdropped from Laura’s lessons with your mother?” Derek shrank back from the venom in his tone, surprised.

“Peter.” Lydia’s voice rang out, and he looked at her. She was watching him and Derek keenly. “You are driving all of the humans here to the nearest diner, and then we are going to have breakfast, and enjoy the company of those without wolves for the rest of the day.” She ordered, and he gave her a glare.

“Weak though I may be, I still have a wolf.” Peter said, and she smiled coldly.

“Yes, but not enough of one to count. Come along.” She threw the keys at him, forcefully, and he caught them with a bit of a glare. It rankled to be commanded by a teenager.

“Take mine, nephew. I apparently am joining the ‘other’ humans.” He grumbled a bit, but went willingly enough as Allison and Stiles followed along behind, looking as surprised as everyone else. Allison trusted that she had a plan besides the obvious; Stiles just hoped for the best. When they got on the road, Lydia spoke only once they were out of earshot of the others.

“Antagonizing Derek will not do you any favors, Peter.” She said, and he growled.

“He does not apparently think the same of me. I am not against teaching him the flaws in his theology.”

“Oh, Peter’s using big words, it means he’s really growly.” Stiles piped up from the backseat, and he snarled at the boy. Stiles pursed his lips, unfazed, but didn’t continue down that particular line of conversation.

“He’s still the alpha, and he’s even stronger now that everyone is starting to get along, not to mention his... co-alpha? Alpha female? I don’t even know.” Allison chimed in. “I really don’t care what happens to _you_ , you crazy bastard, but I won’t let you tear us apart now that we’ve finally got a tentative peace. And apparently you’ve been getting cozy with two more pack members than I thought.” She gave a growl worthy of any wolf, and gave a scathing look to her two human companions.

“Unintentionally, I assure you. If I were to intentionally butter someone up, it would be the youngest Lyall, Bo. He’s so desperate for attention and approval it’s a stench that permeates everything he touches.” Peter growled.

“Peter!” Lydia raised her voice. “I understand that you’re upset, but you need to start thinking with something other than ambition. Did you speak with who I recommended?” She snapped, and he sighed, deliberately loosening the tension in his shoulders.

“Yes, I spoke with her.”

“And?”

“And we must take things slowly, but it appears to be... working.” He grumbled, loathe though he was to admit it.

“Wait, your treatments were by someone recommended by Lydia?” Stiles asked.

“You told him?” Lydia demanded.

“Yes, Stiles, and I told him only what would answer his suspicions.” He said. He disliked being bombarded by questions, but better to answer now than later.

“Good. He’s in Derek’s back pocket.” Lydia said.

“Hey!” Stiles protested.

“Would you prefer I say wrapped around his pinky?” She hissed, and he sighed, pouting in the back.

“This won’t hurt Derek, though, will it?” He asked, doubting Peter but not Lydia.

“No. It’s just something he won’t understand.” Lydia hedged. Stiles dropped it with a sigh. They were impenetrable when they didn't want to tell him something. “Now, I have gotten you at least today free of observation because everyone thinks you’re with us. You’ll drop us off at the diner, and then you’ll leave us the car and you’ll go to your next appointment. I assume it’s... flexible?” Lydia asked, and Peter for the first time looked shocked.

“Yes.” He said. “As you like.” He agreed, and did as was bidden, leaving the car, and one better-- his wallet for them to use. “For food, and clothing. Try to get him out of plaid.” He said, having an inkling that they’d end up at the mall.

“Ah, you traitor!” Stiles whined, but went into the diner with the girls anyway. They were seated, at the request of Lydia, in a quiet portion of the restaurant.

“What was that about?” Surprisingly, it was Allison that ambushed her the minute they sat down, not Stiles, and significantly more hostile than even Lydia had been expecting.

“Peter’s in need of some serious head-fixing. I arranged it. We can’t have potentially dangerous links in our chain, Allison.” Lydia said, almost a rebuke.

“You’d know about that better than most of us.” Stiles said, nonchalantly, and Allison and Lydia both gave him an incredulous look. “We all thought it, nobody said it, so I said it. We don’t want Peter turning back into what he was before. We don’t want him becoming our Kate Argent and bringing our world crashing down around our ears before we even know it. If whatever Lydia’s got can make sure that doesn’t happen, then I’m all in.” He said.

“Don’t use Kate like some sort of comparison! They weren’t the same! Weren’t the same at all!” Allison snapped.

“No. The people Kate killed were innocent.” Stiles snapped, and Allison’s nostrils flared.

“What did you just say?” She asked, barely above a whisper.

“Allison, let it go.” Lydia warned. “Stiles... Too far.” She added, and he just shrugged, unrepentant. As much as he liked Allison, her response to Kate had been too extreme for him to let go of easily. And his memory of Gerard was all too fresh in his mind for him to be letting any part of her crazy family get off easy, no matter how hard it was for her.

“I’m not saying we trust him. I say we get him help, we keep an eye on him until, hopefully, he’s given a clean bill of mental health.” Lydia said.

“That can be faked.” Allison scoffed.

“Not this time.” Lydia’s voice was suspiciously neutral, an indication that she knew more than she was telling.

“Damn it, Lydia!” Allison snapped, but sighed. “Fine, we’ll do it your way.” She said, rubbing her brow with one hand. Lydia reached and took hold of her other hand, squeezing gently with a small smile.

“I promise, if it goes my way it’ll be so much better.” She whispered, and Stiles leapt at the chance when the waitress came by and asked for orders. He was starting to feel suspiciously third-wheeled.

“I’ll get the potato pancakes, with like three extra sour creams, and coffee.” He said, and the waitress just smiled. Every diner in down was familiar with Stiles’ fondness for sour cream and chives.

“Denver omelette with avocado. Orange juice.” Lydia said.

“I’ll have the two-by-four.” Allison said. “Scrambled eggs, please. And a coffee.” She added, and the waitress smiled and reassured them that they’d be ready shortly.

“So... you two seem cozy.” Stiles said, eager for a subject that didn’t have to do with crazies. It was a human day.

“Do we?” Lydia had that suspiciously neutral tone again. Allison just hummed non-committally, looking anywhere but his face.

“Yeah. You do.” Stiles said dryly. Lydia might have been able to avoid and dance away long enough for him to be convinced that he didn’t really want to know enough. Allison just couldn’t lie well enough to convince him. “So... I don’t think anyone else has picked up on it. But what’s been going on?” He asked.

“I really don’t know what--” Allison started, but she still wouldn’t look at him, and Lydia just sighed and put a hand on her arm.

“Keep it quiet.” She said, and he rolled his eyes.

“Like I’m going to tell.” He scoffed.

“We’re feeling things out. We’re not together. We’re not just friends either. We haven’t labeled it, don’t feel the need to.” Lydia said. Stiles nodded.

“Cool. Good for you guys.” He said, with a bright smile.

“You’re not mad?” Allison asked, and he laughed softly.

“Nah. Why would I be?” He asked, fiddling with the jams and jellies so that they were all sorted in the organizer on the table. He needed something to do with his hands.

“You practically worshiped Lydia.” Allison said, uncomfortably. Stiles grinned.

“And still do. But not like that. I still respect the hell out of you, Lyd, but you’re kind of my best friend other than Scott. I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone like Lydia, Allison.” He said. “No offense.” He added.

“None taken. You couldn't keep up.” Lydia said, nodding and sipping at the water they’d been given when they sat down.

“Well, I don’t...” Stiles started, and then just shrugged. Lydia was still Lydia, she still had her moments of vanity. And he wasn’t one to argue, even at the detriment to his character. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He said instead. _That’s probably one of the reasons I wouldn't want to date her_ , he thought to himself. “What are we doing today?” He asked, and Lydia got the smile that meant trouble.

“Shopping. I’m tired of the boy I’m calling my best guy friend looking like a poorly dressed porcupine.” She rubbed the stubbly hair on his head, but it was an affectionate gesture. He looked stricken.

“I don’t have money.” He tried.

“How fortunate that I have an abundance.” She said coolly. “No use trying to get out if it, Stiles. It’ll be easy. Truly. I may even let you get something with a plaid pattern.” Her tone implied it was unlikely.

Five hours later, coming out of a dressing room for the fifth time this store alone, Stiles felt like like dropping dead or crying because of how much money Lydia was spending. Or maybe that was how tight the pants Allison picked out were on his junk.

“I like them.” Allison declared, and Lydia was looking at him appraisingly.

“I think if we got them he’d shove them in the back of his closet and never look at them again. The shirt looks nice, however.” She said, and he at least had to agree there. It was a simple tee, but it had a geometric-paisley sort of design on the right side flowing up from the bottom that made it just a step classier than what he’d normally pick for himself. He smiled at her gratefully. If he was expected to squeeze into these pants on any sort of frequent basis, he thought he might die.

“Now, back in with you.” She handed him yet another outfit, and he groaned, trying it on, and Lydia found a pair of pants that she liked that Stiles actually thought were kind of great. She kept calling them Palazzos, whatever that was; all he knew was that they were loose, flowed around his ankles in a way that made him feel graceful, flared off his hips in a way that made them seem attractive instead of nonexistent like his usual ensembles. He’d been questioning their choice of going into the women’s section for pants, claiming that none of the ones in the men's section were fitting properly, but now he was happy they had.

“They kind of look like he’s wearing a skirt when he stands straight.” Allison said dubiously, and Lydia just smiled.

“A bit, but they're not nearly as wide as some palazzo pants, and besides; he loves them.” She said, with a tone of finality. Allison looked at Stiles, noting the trying-hard-not-to-look-happily-embarrassed face, and then broke into a wide grin, giving him a thumbs up that Lydia couldn’t see.

“So, I think we have all we need. Get changed back.” She gestured at him, and when he emerged they proceeded to the registers. Allison took Lydia and her own purchases to a different one, while Lydia paid for Stiles’.

“Lydia...” Stiles groaned, when the final price popped up. “How did three shirts and a pair of pants hit 400 dollars?!” He demanded, and she smiled, almost a deprecating fondness.

“They didn’t. You’ll find out when you get home.” She said, taking up all the bags lest he be tempted to go rummaging and discover how three shirts and a pair of pants had meant 5 bags, also. Allison was waiting for them by the door, and they went to the food court for lunch, after their fourth stop at the car to put bags away.

“So, Kohl’s?” Allison teased Stiles, who looked vaguely panicked, but Lydia just laughed.

“She’s not serious, Stiles, no need to look like you’re going to make a run for it. You will take us to my place, and then go home and put your clothes away. After that, you are released from duty.” She chuckled, and Stiles gave a soft relieved sigh. He was happy that Lydia and Allison had managed to form a super-impressive power couple, he just wasn’t too keen on them being focused on him for as long as they had been today.

He drove them to Lydia’s, ignoring the eyes the two were giving each other and babbling on about nothing and everything. Neither girl was listening more than to add in an agreement now and again; now that he knew about them, they didn’t feel the need to pretend they weren’t anything, and they were taking advantage of it. It made him smile, just a bit, as he drove. Nothing made him quite as happy as seeing the people around him happy too. It was worth the five-hour torture and being third-wheeled on the drive home.

When he pulled up outside of Lydia’s, Lydia smiled and kissed his cheek, before hopping out. Allison hugged him from the backseat before following, with a ‘text us!’ thrown after her for good measure. He snorted to himself. “Not tonight, I’m not.” He told himself, and then drove home.

As it turned out, Lydia had thrown out his old wardrobe entirely, probably to prevent him from reverting back, and gotten him ten different pairs of palazzo pants. It made him grin stupidly for a full minute before he texted them to scold them half-heartedly.

They didn’t text back until mid-morning the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've found my most secret crush: palazzo pants.   
> Questions for my dear, lovely readers this chapter:   
> 1\. Should I skip forward to a more 'eventful' period, or do you want a few more scenes of how the L.A. wolves interact with Beacon Hills' crew?   
> 2\. I lied last chapter, this is the last call for pairing preferences.  
> I hope you all liked it, and I appreciate every single comment and kudos you guys give!


	6. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, my dears. This is a short chapter, but I was having terrible trouble with this one; forgive me. I still don't like it much, but if I don't get past this part I'm not going to update till kingdom come.

Jim checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was nearing 8 PM two nights after the hunt, and Bo was due to be home nearly four hours ago. He was supposed to go get some groceries and return at about four, before rush hour traffic really set in, and Jim was starting to panic. Ellie came in through the door and was nearly bowled over by the teen, and she blinked and backed up a step.  
“Is Bo with you?” He demanded, sharply, and she gave him a strange look.  
“No, no... He’s not home?” She asked, equally as sharp.  
“He was supposed to be home hours ago!” He growled, the moon flashing in his eyes as his voice went gravelly. Ellie’s eyes widened subtly. “He hasn’t answered his phone, hasn’t texted since three thirty, something is wrong. I can feel it, Ellie!”  
“Calm down, I’m sure he’s fine.” She said, aware that the last thing they needed was Jim going moon-crazed looking for Bo. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be of the same opinion, as he doubled over, fangs starting to sprout and his face lengthening to accommodate. She dropped her purse and took him by the shoulders, trying to think of what to say to calm his wolf back into submission. “Jim! Jimmy, this isn’t helping!” She yelled, and he growled at her, and she shoved him into the bedroom and called the only person she could think of to help.  
“Derek?!” She asked, trying to keep her voice calm and managing about as well as Jim was.  
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He said without pleasantries.  
“Bo’s missing, and Jimmy’s losing it.” She said, and he growled like dealing with kidnappings and teenage bullshit was the frustration of his everyday life. Which, Ellie thought, probably wasn’t too far off.  
“I’m on my way. Whatever you do, don’t let him run. God only knows what he’ll do right now.” He said, and she sighed silently in relief.  
“He’s locked in the bedroom, but it won’t hold forever.” She said, and he hung up on her. True to his word, he arrived a scant ten minutes later, Scott and Isaac in tow. “Thank god. It’s been quiet, but if he were human in there, he’d have called to be let out by now.” She said, and Derek shook his head slowly.  
“He’s not in there, Ellie.” He sighed. “He probably jumped out the window.” She shook her head.  
“I had it nailed shut, and that’s custom glass. I made sure I couldn’t shatter it!” She protested, opening the door, and the window was indeed open... nails on the frame still harboring some wood from the bottom of the sill. “Well... Shit.” She grumbled. If she’d been thinking, she should have known...  
“Understatement.” Derek said sharply. “You are his alpha, you should have been able to keep him contained!” He hissed, and her eyes flashed as she stood taller and took a step into his space.  
“Excuse me? I don’t see you jumping to do it, and you’re just as much his alpha! I don’t know how to do this yet, and you haven’t exactly helped!” She hissed, and he snarled in frustration.  
“It’s not my job to teach you how to be an alpha!” He said, but took a breath, and stood back a step, a signal that he was backing down from the challenge she posed. “I’m sorry. We’re all running a little high.” He said, and she glared a bit but didn’t say anything more. “What’s important is we find him before he hurts--” A howl pierced the air, long and frightened, surprised, and every wolf jumped.  
“That wasn’t any of ours.” Ellie whispered.  
“No, no it wasn’t...” Derek agreed softly. Soon there were howls going up from several places in town, askance and worry, and then one cut off suddenly in the middle, then another; two that were closest to each other.  
“Oh, god... Jimmy...” Ellie whispered.  
“He’s found them. The Alpha pack. Some of them, at least...” He murmured, and she nodded.  
“Will he... does this mean that he’ll keep killing?” She asked, and he shook his head.  
“There’s no guarantee that he’s killed once, not yet. But even if he has, there’s nothing saying that he will continue. No wolf would take this well, Ellie, and for him it may simply be too much.” He said, trying to reassure her.  
“I’m taking this okay!” She said, and he smiled tightly.  
“That’s because when you’re in human form, you have exceptional control. Your brother...” He made a nondescript shrug, and then sighed.  
“We’d better go. The Alpha Pack won’t be idle.” Isaac said, and they were in agreement on that at least. Ellie wanted to run, but Derek shook his head and ushered everyone into his car. He followed the sound of howling, sliding into the parking lot of a bank. Two boys were stumbling out of the doors, broken off the hinges, and the one that was conscious snarled at them and then darted, carrying his companion, into the shadows. Isaac started to give chase, but Scott held him back.  
“Not now. They’re not a threat right now.” He hissed, and Ellie gave a sniff to the air.  
“I... don’t smell anything inside. Anything.” She emphasized, and Derek nodded.  
“This is where he’s at. He cut himself on the nails in the window, and that’s his blood on the doors. The question is, how many of the alphas are in there with him, and how did he know to come here?” Derek murmured, looking frustrated, and Scott shook his head.  
“That’s... that’s Stiles's jeep.” He said, gesturing to the blue car in the lot, parked haphazardly.  
“Jesus, Stiles...” Derek nearly whined. Ellie gave him a sharp look. Why was one of the pack’s humans here? “I don’t know.” He answered the unspoken question. “He didn’t tell me anything.” He murmured. “We don’t have a choice. We’re going to have to go inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so there's that. Short, to the point. Since no one had a preference on bringing the missing pack in earlier, I went with that option (mainly because Erica is one of my favorites, and I like writing her, so I wasn't keen on letting her die). That said, next chapter will be longer with a little more meat to it. I might come back and edit some things on this chapter, but if I make major changes I'll send out an alert. As always, I'm dying to hear your opinions, so comment!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter (longer than it's predecessor, at least!), and this has a little more story movement along with all the pack bonding.

"El, take Scott round the back. Isaac, come with me. Keep your ears sharp." Derek ordered, and Ellie nodded, though she wasn't fond of taking orders when they were supposed to be equals. This wasn't the time to argue semantics.

Derek and Isaac slipped in, and immediately they were assaulted with the stench of blood, urine, despair and fear. Isaac gagged softly, and Derek was a little queasy himself. Whatever blocked the smell was in the walls, because once inside it certainly didn't dampen anything. "This is where they've been keeping them." Isaac murmured, and underneath the ugly reek he could indeed smell Erica and Boyd, and another barely-familiar scent that reminded him of soft things, like baby blankets and his mother. More recently, he smelled a pain-fear-blood that belonged to Bo, and a hatred-kill-defend that could only be Jimmy in his ferociously protective mindset.

"I still can't smell--" Derek's words were cut off as he stumbled over a lump he'd failed to notice; he looked down and nearly jumped.

One of the Alpha pack, a large stern man with his face still frozen in a now-silent snarl, lay dead with throat mangled beyond even an alpha's ability to heal.

"Jesus... Jimmy did this?" Isaac asked, and Derek nodded.

"Must've." He didn't sound precisely horrified. His inner wolf raged with the smell of his hurt pack, and he probably would have torn the big wolf's throat out had Jimmy not done so.

"Maybe not; look here." The beta reached down and pulled a bit of broken barbed wire out of a wound in the dead alpha's leg.

"That's not him, but the killing blow definitely is." Derek said.

"Do you think...? Der, Stiles is here somewhere..." He murmured cautiously.

"It had better not be. The last thing he needs to be doing is fighting alpha wolves twice his size even human." Derek's growl was anything but happy.

"Derek!!" Ellie's voice cut through the conversation, and both boys ran to find her. Jimmy was in front of the vault door, still in wolf form, his head in Stiles's lap as he whined. He had a good chunk torn out of a hamstring, and Stiles was stroking his head gently, trying to calm the wolf who was still trying to scrabble at the vault door. It was working marginally, though he was still jerking his wounded back foot to bang against it once in a while. His eyes were unseeing, pain-blinded, and Stiles looked up helplessly at Derek.

He growled, coming and dragging Jimmy close and away from Stiles. The boy finally shifted back down to a human form, curling into Derek.

"I thought he was gonna kill me when he jumped on me, but he just... curled up on me." Stiles whispered.

"You smell like the pack, and especially like the alpha. You smell like me, and I mean safety to his wolf. He's hurt. You made him feel moderately safer while he was healing. Not as I or Ellie would, but enough to calm him from a rage." He explained patiently. Ellie had the passing thought that if he were as patient with everyone as he was with Stiles, he might make a damn good alpha someday.

"What are you doing here?" Scott demanded, exasperated with his very human best friend.

"Um. Well, remember that I've been going to the school counselor? Morrell?" He asked, and Scott's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah..." he sounded wary, and Derek privately agreed. When Stiles kept secrets it was usually because he knew they wouldn't approve.

"Well, she's kind of a druid? And she's been teaching me things. Just some basic stuff, for now, but she says my spark is stronger than most she's seen. But she taught me a tracking spell, and I had some of Erica's blood from that big fight her and Allison had a showdown at, so I tried it out. It led me here, and when I got here I saw him go blasting through the doors like tissue paper, so I grabbed my bat out of my trunk and came in." Stiles said, very quickly and without a breath, as if hoping they wouldn't quite hear him.

For a moment, there was silence, and then Derek and Scott both took a breath to start yelling. "Save it! The alpha pack is on the way and we have to get them out of here, and it won't budge." Ellie snapped, gesturing to the vault door.

"I might be able to help with that too, actually." Stiles chirped, standing up. Behind where he was sitting was a blood-spattered bat wrapped in barbwire, carved symbols underneath that did god knows what. Derek let out a heavy breath through his nose. He and Stiles would be having words later.

Stiles went to the vault door and pulled out a sharpie, drawing a simple symbol on the vault door. It looked like basic graffiti to Derek, but after a moment, when Stiles tried the wheel to open the vault, it moved easily. "How?" Was all Ellie asked and Stiles looked a little smug.

"The glyph is basically for making unknown things known, but it's intent that matters. I didn't know what was behind the door, so I focused on the glyph allowing me to know. It doesn't always work, but..." he slid the door slowly open, and there was a snarling Erica, growling while standing over an injured Bo and weak Boyd. Behind those two, another female wolf.

"Cora?" Derek demanded, and her head snapped up, a cold look turning confused and then wary.

"Jim!" Bo nearly bowled the alpha over to get at the beta he still held, and Jim muttered soft, if a little out of it, reassurances that he was fine. "Look at you! You're not fine, you're bleeding!" Bo was panicking, and Jim put a hand over his mouth.

"Shh, m'fine." He grumbled, smiling and Derek handed him over to Bo, under the watchful supervision of Ellie.

He looked at Erica and Boyd, his expression unsure and lost. They both seemed in a state of shock, and then Erica bowled into him, hiding her face in his chest and crying in relief. Boyd came and clapped him on the shoulder, but sagged in relief when Derek pulled him close as well, sighing happily that his pack was at least whole again, though a little worse for wear.

"Hate to ruin the moment, guys, but we have to go. I can hear them coming." Scott said, and Derek looked at Cora. She nodded, taking up the rear and helping everyone into either Derek’s or Stiles's car.

"We don't have enough seats for everyone." Derek said grimly, and then another distinctly flashy car pulled in quickly.

"Give Scott your keys and get in." Peter barked toward Stiles, who nodded and tossed the keys at his best friend.

"Don't grind her gears when you shift, Scotty." He ordered,  starting to round to the passenger side.

"Hey! Why do you want him with you?" Derek demanded, confused and annoyed by the quick camaraderie shown between Stiles and Peter.

"Don't you know I'm seducing him with my library, dear nephew?" Peter said snidely, and Stiles growled at him in a decidedly puppyish way.

"There's no time. I'm the only one here who's comfortable enough with Peter to ride with him alone. We'll meet you back at the loft." Derek was a bit stung by the exasperated bite to his tone, but shook it off and went to drive his own car. As they peeled out of the lot, they saw several distinct shapes with glowing red eyes come bursting from behind the bank, and as they caught sight of the cars, their howls followed threateningly like a curse.

In Peter's hybrid, Stiles was stewing and Peter was smiling with a hint of smugness. "Oh, quit grinning." Stiles grumbled.

"Why? My nephew needed the reminder that he doesn't own the sky, and it's immensely satisfying to have you be the one to deliver it."

"The fuck does that even mean, Peter?" Stiles sighed.

"Derek thinks he _owns_ the pack instead of leads it, a very common mistake for inexperienced alphas. He thinks that he can demand to know everything and that his word is law, especially with you. I enjoy seeing him disillusioned." He purred happily.

Stiles was quiet a moment. "I thought after he saw that I'm capable, that I can do things for myself and that I'm not helpless, he might put a little more trust in me." He whispered.

Peter looked at his morose passenger out of the corner of his eye, and sighed, placing a hand around the back of his neck gently and rubbing. Stiles looked at him, a bit surprised, which Peter pretended not to notice. "He doesn't think you're helpless. He cares for you, more than the others even, but he doesn't know how to keep you safe and let you keep yourself safe at the same time. He will find a balance, given time. Don't worry." He said soothingly, and smiled a bit in a self-satisfied way when Stiles leaned into the hand still covering his neck. To a wolf, Stiles was displaying a gesture of trust; he could dig his claws into his spine in half a moment if he were so inclined, and Stiles was accepting and trusting that he would not. Likewise, Peter's gesture was one of caring; to cover and protect the vulnerable vertebrae, to display that he wanted to comfort and keep a packmate safe.

"I see growing a soul is going well." Stiles said, trying to lighten the sudden thick emotion in the air.

"Hmm? quite." Peter said passively, in a bland tone that sounded remarkably like Lydia’s I-know-more-than-I'm-going-to-tell-you voice.

"Oh come on. Don't stonewall me now. How is it going? I can tell it's working, but you haven't told me how or what it even is." Stiles fished, and Peter sighed.

"It's going well enough, apparently I am very amicable to the treatment. It's a very experimental therapy." He said. "And that is all you get until later on." He added staunchly. "So, care to inform me on your relationship with my nephew?" The surprised squawk Stiles made could have rivalled any bird.

"Relationship? There's not-- I mean he's growly-eyebrows alpha Derek and I'm pack and we're just sorta friends really." Stiles said, quickly and nervously.

"Hm. Interesting. Because everytime I go to Derek's loft, you're draped over his furniture or eating his food or cuddled up to him watching a show that I know very well he did not pick out." Peter said succinctly.

"We're just friends, Peter. He needs that. Just friends. And when did you manage to see all that?" Stiles sighed, a little forlornly. Peter gave him a look; he did nickname him creep for a reason. "He doesn't need another relationship right now. He's not ready." Stiles added, looking away from Peter as if he didn’t really want to talk about that particular fact.

"Shockingly mature of you. Didn't like it, though, I'll bet." He said, an offer to talk but not pressuring to do so,  and Stiles smiled a bit.

"No, neither of us do really. But we like what we have now. The friendship stuff. I figure that we will progress if and when we progress, you know?" He asked, and Peter smiled.

"I'm glad that you two have the patience for each other." Was all he said.

"You have the patience for me." Stiles grinned, and Peter snorted.

"Some days. Even fewer are the days I have the patience for Derek." He grumbled. "I understand why he's hostile and why he distrusts me. That doesn't make it easier to bear the brunt of his temper." He grumbled, and then nearly jumped when Stiles mirrored the move Peter had displayed, hesitantly as if he wasn't quite sure it was all right, gently covering the nape of his neck.

Peter surprised himself and Stiles both with a deep, wolfish thrum of contentment, leaning into the hand. His wolf felt like preening. He was earning the trust of his pack again, and the beast in him was taking the sense of pack and comfort in with relish. It had been a long time; since before the fire, really. Derek and Laura had abandoned him in agony, when he needed Pack most, and he hadn't forgiven Derek yet for that. Would never forgive Laura. Derek he knew he would in time; he was only following his alpha.

Laura still made him angry to the point of madness, if he really cared to think of it. Lone omegas went mad, even healthy. Laura had left him for dead, and when he had recovered physically and she'd been so close, the one who betrayed him and left him alone and injured when she was supposed to protect him, all he wanted to do was make her feel the pain she had inflicted upon him.

He knew now he had been wrong to do it. The alpha power had only driven his madness further, and she had not known any better. But knowing didn't soothe the ache of loneliness and betrayal, and it certainly didn't affect the deep-seeded resentment and duplicity he felt when she was brought up.

Stiles was pack, however, and had never been less than honest about his intent, never double crossed him. He was unrelated to his life before, and so relatively safe on that front also; he didn’t expect him to be anyone he couldn’t be. It felt good to have that sort of comfort and trust again.

“Peter.” Stiles said softly, and Peter hmm’d in askance. He’d gotten rather stuck in his head, going on autopilot and not paying attention to the road. “Where are we going?” He asked, an amused little smirk on his face, and Peter cleared his throat as he realized he’d missed the turn into Derek’s lot, cursing under his breath. “We’ll make a pack wolf of you yet, creeper.” Stiles teased, and Peter rolled his eyes. he never claimed he wasn’t, but if it gave Stiles something to think about other than Derek, he’d not mention it. He pulled into a parking place, and looked at Stiles expectantly.

“You’re not thinking of skipping out on the big reunion.” Stiles said, noting that everyone else was already here and upstairs.

“It’s for the pack, Stiles.” Peter tried, and got a bland look for his trouble.

“You _are_ pack, stupid. Come inside.” He stole Peter’s keys, running up the stairs.

“Goddamn it, Stiles. It’s not you Derek’ll be angry with.” He muttered, but slammed the door to the car on the way out and up to the loft elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right! So, as you can tell, Peter's a little less psycho and a little more emotionally confused at this point. Still conflicted on whether I want his recovery to be genuine or not, but Peter is one of my favorites when character development allows for it. As always, your opinions are invaluable to me, and I look forward to them!


	8. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys. So. I'm really shitty at regular updates. But I'm really good at eventually updating, so thanks for sticking with me!

As he had predicted, when Peter entered a few moments after Stiles, the room went suddenly quiet. Scott looked suspicious, and Derek looked simply furious. Stiles was still standing by the door, looking righteously indignant, and Peter sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to be welcome.

“Where have you been. Everyone else got here fifteen minutes ago.” Derek stated, rather than asked, and it held an edge that Peter didn’t appreciate the implications of.

“We were talking.” Stiles’ voice brooked no argument. Peter appreciated the protectiveness, but he worried that Derek would take it poorly.

“For fifteen minutes? When no one knew if the Alpha Pack had caught up to you? When we didn’t know you were safe?” Derek demanded.

“Peter wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” Stiles scoffed, and Peter smiled, though he turned his face away from Derek and downward when the alpha turned his furious expression onto him for a moment.

“I also don’t know how he managed to show up at just the right time, or where this sudden defense of Peter came from. Weren’t you saying not too long ago that we should put him in another grave?” Derek demanded. Peter frowned.

“I thought I was arriving late, Derek, I heard the howl from a town over!” Peter said, and Derek glared at him.

“Why did you even bother to come at all? You’re a liability we can’t afford in a fight!” Derek snarled, and his uncle stepped backward toward the door. He wasn’t going to stay if he was going to be the brunt of his nephews infamously difficult temper all evening. Stiles’ voice gave him pause in its vehemence.

“He’s no more a liability than I am!” Stiles snapped, and Derek’s red eyes shone through.

“I didn’t want you there either!” Derek’s voice was pointedly not raised, but it wasn’t quiet either. Stiles’ mouth abruptly snapped shut, and he stared at him for a long few seconds, until Derek’s eyes went back to normal.

“That was fucking low, Derek. Nice to know I’m a liability too.” Stiles said, voice almost a whisper, but it was deafening in the silent room. It was like everyone watching had forgotten to breathe.

“Stiles, I didn’t say that.” Derek said, trying to backtrack, but Stiles had none of it.

“No, Derek, that’s fine.” He said.

“Holy shit. You’re worse off than I thought.” Ellie said softly, from the corner. Derek turned to her with an expression that spoke of desperation, but also of confusion and exasperation. Stiles turned on his heel, grabbed Peter’s arm, and bared his very human teeth at Derek as he walked in to sit down on the loveseat. Where Derek and he usually sat side-by-side, and he pulled Peter down beside him.

“The liabilities have to stick together.” He growled to the room, and Erica let out a low whistle through her teeth. She knew Stiles could be spiteful, even cruel, when he was angry. It was one thing to hear about it through school gossip, like when he’d nearly destroyed the reputation and social life of a boy who’d been looking to bully him out of his wallet, and had ended up a social pariah with a stolen, empty wallet. That had been one thing. Everyone thought he deserved it. A little cruel, sure, but nothing that wasn't coming to the kid. Moreover, it wasn't someone Stiles claimed was a friend. Erica remembered vaguely an argument between Stiles and Scott where the latter had snapped about a dog dish on his first full moon, but it was a topic quickly dropped after an icy glare from the former.

It was shocking to see it, him doing things specifically to hurt someone, first hand.

"Stiles, no one sees you as a liability." Scott attempted, but Stiles turned curiously tired eyes on his best friend.

" _You_ might not, Scotty." Was all he said, giving a wounded look to Peter that gave monologues of information... to all but Derek, who was at Stiles' back and couldn't see it. Peter made a low thrumming noise, worried but sympathetic to his packmate's feelings. Peter was in a unique position to commiserate with the feeling of being both helpless and useless.

“I don’t see you as a liability, Stiles.” Boyd said, unexpectedly, and Stiles was surprised enough to lose his pissed-off face and look at him. Everyone else, even Erica, was giving him an equally confused look. “What? Annoying, not as slick as you think you are, but I’d trust you to have my back if it came down to it.” He said bluntly, and Stiles’ eyes crinkled with a wry smile.

“That’s... touching, coming from you, actually.” He said, and Boyd shrugged.

“You did try to rescue us. Not the best plan, maybe, just showing up, but you tried anyway.” Erica said, hoping he would take it in good faith and not just choose to hear the criticism. He was in a foul enough mood without. “You didn’t have to, but you did, and that means something.” She added, and he smiled at her next.

“That’s really sweet, guys. I do appreciate it. Even if it’s kinda coming out of nowhere.” He said, and his heartbeat rang true, but his face said they weren’t the ones he was trying to prove himself to.

“It’s not out of _nowhere_ , Stiles.” Erica said.

“You hit me over the head with part of the jeep that is my pride and joy. After tearing it out with your claws.” He said blandly, and her cheeks pinkened. It was a heady feeling, to become a werewolf, and the only one she knew that hadn’t had an adjustment period where they adopted a self-absorbed arrogance was Scott. And Scott was the least arrogant person on the planet, as far as she was concerned.

“That jeep is your pride and joy?” Jimmy asked, blandly, from the couch where he’d been silently observing with hazy eyes. Bo and Isaac were both fussing over him; Isaac patching him up, and Bo hovering anxiously for lack of anything better to do.

“My jeep has been through a lot, don’t badmouth her.” Stiles said, defensively, and Jim held up his hands in surrender. “But the point is, I appreciate the support from you guys.” Stiles said, trying to steer the conversation back on track. He had a lot of practice doing so with himself, so he may as well implement those skills with the pack.

“I hate to cut off the drama, but can I point out the actual problem we’re dealing with? The Alpha pack that kidnapped us?” Cora asked things about as well as her brother, which is to say she demanded them.

“And another thing, who the hell are you?” Isaac asked, and Derek and Peter answered at the same time with ‘my sister’ and ‘my niece’ respectively.

“So there are more Hales running around that you just didn’t think to mention?” Allison asked, and Peter gave her a dry look.

“Why would we tell an Argent?” He said under his breath.

“If we’d known, don’t you think we would have?” Derek snapped.

“My name is Cora. Once again, Alphas?” She reminded, and Stiles sighed.

“Well, we’ve fouled up... whatever they were trying to do.” He tried.

“They were trying to weaken our resistance to shifting. Whatever they were doing, it wasn’t letting us shift; if we’d been in there for a few months, we’d be feral as rabid animals when they let us out.” Cora said bluntly.

“That’s... disturbing.” Ellie said, from a barstool she was perched on, overlooking her pack with watchful eyes. She realized they needed to argue, if only to work out some of their issues, but knew when to step in. “Are you alright?” She asked, and Cora nearly glared.

“Peachy.” She said, sarcasm dripping from the single word.

“Cora, mind yourself.” Peter growled.

“Or what?” She demanded incredulously. “You’ll ground me? I’ve been without the Hale pack for quite some time, I don’t know why you think I’ll care now.” She grumbled.

“Because you’re here.” Ellie said, clearly. “And while you are here, you will show the respect a guest shows a host.” She ordered, and Cora snorted.

“Awfully formal one, aren’t you?” Cora sneered.

“You have no idea.” Jimmy said, with a laugh he tried to disguise. Bo just rolled his eyes.

“Can we stop antagonizing each other?” Scott pled, suddenly, and the room settled in. “Now that everyone’s here, we can start talking about what to do. We can’t let them kidnap more of the pack, or this whole rescue mission will be a moot point. We’ve got to decide how we’re going to prevent that.” He said, and Stiles nodded.

“I was thinking about that too. We could do the buddy system, but... well, that didn’t exactly help Boyd and Erica.” Isaac chipped in.

“Alpha escorts. From now on, no one is anywhere without at least three people, and travel only with an alpha.” Ellie said. There was an immediate chorus of protests. She silenced it with a look.

“Either Derek or myself will pick you up, drop you off at school, and take you home in groups. But I want at least three together wherever you go. Isaac, you can stay with my boys if you want. I know you’ve been living with Derek, but it would be easier to stay in a group of three living with us.” She offered, and Isaac looked at Derek. When he got a nod, he accepted with a sweet, shy smile and a nod of his own.

“Lydia, Allison, Stiles, I want you three together. Preferably at Allison’s house. As much as I don’t like the idea of Hunters, I trust they could handle an attack. I understand that may not be easy to accomplish, with your parents not knowing about the supernatural aspect of things--” She was cut off by Lydia.

“My parents won’t notice, not really, and I’ll talk to the Sheriff, but I don’t think I can convince him to make it every night.” Stiles gawked at her, but didn’t argue and after a moment snapped his mouth closed.

“Perfect. Thank you, Lydia.” Ellie gave her a smile. “And when you must be home, Stiles, I’m assigning you Peter. He may be weak, but he’s still an experienced wolf, and you have the added bonus of being the only person in the room who can apparently stand him, aside from my boys and I.” She said. Stiles nodded, and Peter shot a nervous look to Derek, whose expression was suspiciously blank.

“Cora, Boyd and Erica, I’d like you three together, and with Derek as often as you can manage.” Derek looked surprised at this next order, but smiled at them weakly. Cora was looking at Ellie suspiciously. “And Scott, take up a rotation between the other groups.” She finished soundly.

“Who’s the alpha here? Shouldn’t Derek be ordering all this?” Cora demanded, and Ellie gave her a bland look.

“Derek is one of the alphas. I am the other.” She flashed her moon-white eyes, a flash of red lightning shooting through them, and Cora blanched and looked away. She was well aware of the Lyall clan, growing up around werewolves. Derek, meanwhile, was quietly impressed. Ellie was taking to being an alpha far faster than he’d anticipated. “Besides, when I lived in L.A. I organized A-listers for a living. I know how to get people where they need to be.” She said, crossing her legs at the knee primly.

“What does the Alpha pack want, though? We can’t keep up this schedule forever.” Bo said, and a moment of silence grew into a long, awkward pause.

“We... aren’t sure yet. They haven’t given any indication, beyond apparently making betas go feral.” Isaac said, nodding in deference to Erica and Boyd.

“No, that’s a means to an end.” Peter said, speaking up suddenly. “The only thing that would achieve is one of the alphas putting down their own pack members. Why would they care?”

“To sow dissent?” Stiles offered.

“No, there are easier ways to accomplish that.”

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Derek muttered.

"Fuck off, Derek." Stiles's tone was conversational, lacking the heat of contempt that it needed to bite. He was distracted, obviously thinking, and the rest of the pack waited for the result. "I think I remember something about..." he hopped up, darting up the stairs of the loft. A triumphant 'ah!' came, and then he came back down with a large tome.

"I was doing some reading on wolfy history after our new packmates showed up -thanks for letting me use your library, Der- and I ran across something that at the time didn't strike me as important. I think I may have been wrong." He cracked the book open, flipping through quickly.

“Here. It says that in a territory with multiple alphas, the killing of betas can be used to strengthen an alpha temporarily. The last time it was done was... 14th century? It’s one of the biggest taboos, according to the book, and judging by the fact none of you recognize it...?” He trailed off, looking at the born wolves in the room, who were all looking at him blankly. Peter leaned forward over Stiles’ shoulder, reading quickly.

“They came here before Ellie, so who would be the second alpha to allow the ritual?” He asked, and Stiles shrugged.

“I don’t know. Maybe just the Alpha pack being here would be enough. It didn’t say multiple alphas in the pack, just the territory.” He was guessing, reaching, and Derek came over and looked also, and then got an annoyed face.

“What is this? Is this even english?” He grumbled.

“Technically, yes. It’s old english.” Stiles said, though not without ire. He still wasn’t happy with his alpha. “We try to make ourselves useful for you, O Alpha, My Alpha.” He muttered, and Derek made a noise of exasperation.

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t know what you want me to say otherwise. I was worried, I lost my temper.” He said, and Stiles whipped around to look at him, squaring his shoulders off as he advanced on a surprised Derek.

“You lost your temper? You’re the alpha, Derek. You _can’t_ lose your temper anymore, that’s what is going to fuck this all up, is if you can’t hold it together. Like it or not, Derek, you’re the glue of the hierarchy. If you can’t keep it together, you’ll drag all of us down with you!” He said, and Derek stumbled as he walked backwards into a coffee table. “So don’t say shit if you can’t follow through with it, don’t glower and grunt like a barbarian when you don’t get your way, and don’t treat members of your pack like shit just because you’re in a shitty mood.” He finished, and then spun around, grabbing his jacket.

“I’m going home. I’ll see you guys later. I’m really glad you three are okay.” He said, and Peter got up to follow.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asked, and Peter gave him a dry look.

“We’re on a mandatory buddy system, Stiles, in case you’ve forgotten.” He said, and Stiles growled, thinking Derek would have to take them home.

“I’ll take you two. Give everyone some time to cool off.” Ellie said, and Stiles took Peter in his jeep while Ellie followed behind in her car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those 'little bit of this, little bit of that' chapters. It's short, I know, but they'll get lengthier as I get back in the groove of writing this story. I'll probably update a little more often, I've been writing a little more on this story than usual.  
> So, this update's questions:   
> 1\. Peter's recovery, genuine or faked?  
> 2\. Should Scott hit alpha status in this story?   
> I always appreciate your input!


	9. Another Player Enters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies and decisions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, guys, sorry about the wait! This one goes out to the anon that messaged me on tumblr asking when I was going to update. XD

The drive was quiet for the first few minutes, until Peter finally broke the silence. "He'll come around, Stiles."

"I don't care." The boy responded, but his tone spoke to the inaccuracy of the statement.

"Yes, you do. And you're right to. Even pack humans feel the pull of an alpha, and while you're correct, you still don't feel right being pit against him. You were right to chastise him, but if he comes, I would speak with him. To let it fester would only make you miserable." Peter offered the unsolicited advice carefully, as if unsure Stiles wouldn’t reject it on principle of who he was, and it thawed the younger man's icy glare.

"I will, but I'm not going to be the one to apologize. I don't care if he's the alpha, I'm not going to go crawl on my belly and grovel when I know I'm right." He said, and Peter smiled.

"That'd be why you're so necessary to this pack. No one else, even me, can or will stand up to him in quite the same way." Peter’s tone was warm, and it made Stiles crack a smile.

"Now, at the risk of your ire, I... wanted to broach a subject with you." Peter said carefully.

"And that is?" Stiles's tone screamed warning hells.

"Telling your father about this." Stiles nearly swerved he turned to look at him so quickly, incredulity making an obvious claim.

"Excuse me?"

"Hear me out. He is in constant danger; he is a police officer, yes, and he knows the threats from his work, but he has no idea to keep an eye out for things like the Alpha pack. What if they took him to get to you? They must be starting to understand your value after the rescue. There was a video surveillance system in that building that worked." He said, and he could tell Stiles was thinking, so he barreled on. "He could connect with Chris Argent, get wolfsbane bullets so he'd be prepared. He'd be a more effective sherriff, if he knew what was going on, and..." Here he trailed off.

"And?" Stiles prompted.

"I know how much it bothers you to lie to him."

Stiles was quiet for the rest of the ride home, and Ellie idled long enough for them to get inside. Stiles sighed, sitting on his bed while Peter perched on his office chair. Stiles sent a few quick text messages, telling the pack he was safe at home and telling his father he was home for the night.

"Say I agree, I don't think Derek would be too keen on another unknown factor being added into the mix, like if my dad reacted badly."

"I wasn't suggesting that we tell him."

"Peter..."

"Derek is shortsighted. He doesn't want to take risks, but he is being outmatched. With law enforcement, we'd have extra backing. And it would not increase your father's risk; he would know what to look for, how to avoid it, how to defend against it."

"I'm not disagreeing, Peter, but going over his head?" Stiles looked dubious.

"For the benefit of the pack. Besides, he's already taking his temper out on me. If it goes poorly, you can blame me." He said, and Stiles frowned.

"I wouldn't do that, why would I do that?" He asked, agitated.

"Because Derek already doesn't trust me. He can't lose what he doesn't have. With you, there's something to lose. And I did put you up to it." Peter pointed out casually. "Plus, you're going to need a wolf to provide proof for your father. I would be happy to." He said it like he was talking about planning a luncheon, not exposing Sheriff Stilinski to the preternatural.

"I don't know, Peter... but I'll consider it." He conceded, and Peter broke into a grin. From the sound of his heart, that was as good as a yes. "No need to look so smug."

"I can't help myself around you, dear." Peter said sarcastically, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Creeper." He accused, but it was more fond than anything, and they sat in companionable silence for a few hours while Stiles did his homework and Peter read a book off his shelf.

As Peter had thought, around midnight Derek was scratching at the window with a puppy look to his eyes. Stiles shot him a look, and he nodded, opening the window and sighing as Derek slid in. "I'll give you some space." Peter offered, and went downstairs.

Left alone, the ensuing pause was stifling. "Stiles..." Derek started, but didn't seem to know how to continue.

"Did you come for a reason, Derek?" Stiles asked coldly, and Derek tensed up in the shoulders, hunching a bit as if to defend himself from the words.

"Yes. I... came to apologize. You're right. I can't do that anymore." He said stiffly. "I was never supposed to be alpha. It was always going to be my father, then Laura, then Peter... I was fifth in line. It wasn't likely I was ever going to ascend to Alpha, so I wasn't taught how to do this. All I have to go by is books I can barely read they're so old, and Laura’s notes from when we were kids." He said, and Stiles' eyebrows were raised. He wasn't expecting a fountain of information in exchange for a bitch-fit. "I need help, Stiles." He said it so softly, Stiles almost didn't hear.

"I know, Derek. You needed to know too." He said simply.

"I only want to keep everyone safe, but..."

"You're keeping it together remarkably, for the circumstances, Der. But you need to trust us. The pack, and me."

"It would be easier if you called me before running into the enemy fort." Der said, with a little wry smile, and Stiles sighed.

"I... actually didn't know for sure. I wanted to make sure it had worked before getting anyone's hopes up, I wasnt planning on going in, and then when I got there... Jim went careening through the door, and I just reacted. He needed help. I knew you'd be there soon. Because I trusted you. And you didn't disappoint." Stiles coaxed his Alpha into understanding, and Derek got a shamefaced look.

"You trusted me, and I didn't return it. That's what pissed you off." He said, and Stiles gave him a bland look.

"That's overly simplistic, Derek. People aren't two-dimensional. That’s part of it, yeah, but it’s not everything. You’ve got to listen, Der, I’ve said why I’m upset. You shit on everything when you’re upset, and the pack doesn’t deserve that.”

“I know. I’m trying.” He repeated.

“I’m telling my dad about werewolves.” Stiles said suddenly, and Derek blinked, taking a moment to catch up.

“What?” His tone was a warning sign.

“I’m not asking, Derek, I’m telling. I’m informing you that I’m telling my dad about werewolves. He’s in too much danger, and he doesn’t even know half of it. That’s not cool.” Derek was here to apologize, Stiles was going to press the advantage.

“Do you think now is the best time?” Derek asked, and Stiles crossed his arms.

“Yes.” He said, sternly, and Derek sighed.

“All right, I see I won’t change your mind.” He shrugged. Stiles gave him a look.

“What, that’s it?”

“I didn’t come to argue, Stiles. To be honest? You’re one of the only pack that will consistently talk to me without glaring. I’d like to keep it that way.” He said, and Stiles gave him a smug smirk. “Oh, don’t with that!” Derek growled fondly, scrubbing at his prickly hair with his fingers, and Stiles squawked. Derek stopped suddenly, cocking his head and the smile dropping off his face. Stiles took a moment to catch up, and then took stock of his expression. The stomach dropped out of him at the look of panic on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your father pulled into the drive, and I can’t hear Peter’s heartbeat.” As he spoke, they both heard the door open.

“Stiles!” John Stilinski shouted up the stairs, with urgency. Both Derek and Stiles darted for the stairs at the same time, and Derek hit the bottom of the stairs first. Sheriff Stilinski drew his gun, spluttering as he took in Derek, already half-wolf.

The downstairs still seemed pristine, except for a blood spatter up one wall, like someone had hit the beta over the back of the head. “Can you smell him?” Stiles asked, and Derek shook his head.

“Not even from the blood.”

“Stiles! Are you all right?” John said. “What is Derek Hale doing here? Smell? Where did this blood come from? What is wrong with his _face_?”

“Dad, this wasn’t how I wanted to do this...”

“This wasn’t the Alpha pack... they wouldn’t have taken him quietly. This was someone else.” Derek said, and Stiles looked out the window as if he hoped Peter might be miraculously in the yard.

“Stiles, what the hell is going on?!” The Sheriff yelled, to no avail.

“Derek.” He called softly, and pointed at the window. Carved, beautifully, into the glass was a crest, a shield with four sections, each with a cross, and a helm at the top with feathers that turned into wolves. “Do you recognize this?” He asked softly, and Derek nodded jerkily, his jaw working for a moment.

“The Lyall family crest.” He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See a mistake? Let me know, I'll fix it. Sorry for the cliffhanger, and the shortness. I wrote most of it on my phone.   
> Q for you to give me an A, readers:  
> I've pretty much narrowed it down to Steter or Sterek. I'm kind of leaning toward Steter for this story, but I'd be open to popular vote, so comment with your preference! It will absolutely be posted in the tags with the next chapter update with the final decision.


End file.
